


Botched Ink

by Syremia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety, Artist Keith (Voltron), Drinking, Drunkenness, Human Shay (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Insecurity, M/M, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Plot Twists, Slow Build, Slow Burn, background shallura - Freeform, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syremia/pseuds/Syremia
Summary: "Your soulmate is that who shares the same symbol on their skin as yours." Was all Lance had been teached since a young age.He was the only one in his large group of friends to not have a symbol of his own. Just as he thought he was gonna live alone until he met Keith in a bar. The problem was that Keith already had a symbol of his own.(Warning: Various mentions of heavy drinking ahead)





	1. Chapter 1

Soul mates are, by definition, fated to be since the beginnings of time. Predestined as one might say. "Fate" in the words of young adult novels when describing the protagonist's newfound love interest. The ashes of time mark you in the time of physical and mental maturity. Most of these markings appear in the back of the holder's left hand as one ages. Drawn deep in your skin, a result similar to tattoo ink, appears a symbol that will one day link you emotionally to your soul mate, who will have the same symbol. 

 

Although human selfishness has tainted the true meaning of this phenomenon. All throughout history there has been one of lightning ink mingling with a rosebush, who while turning their backs on their inked hands, sleep with their opposite. Meanwhile their predestined lightning or rosebush lover never finds their soulmate and most likely live a lonely life and die unaccompanied. 

 

Among these people are the ones who are never to be with someone. They call them 'Blanks' because of their lack of ink. They are the white canvas in a gallery of colors. Nonetheless they are the ones spared from the wrath of destiny. 

 

This is the common sense in this world. And the common sense was troubling Lance in the back of his mind every waking second. At the age of 21, being ink-less was his biggest problem, being the last of his friends to yet have it. He had already ruled out not of the reasons why. First, he had already visited the doctor minimum 15 times to get news if his body was gonna grow more and in the 15 times the doctor had said no. Second, he was in the pinnacle of mental stability (although his friends deny that) according to most doctors. Telling dirty jokes and really messed up shit aside, being away from home and sustaining himself while attending college really helped him achieve this feat. It only left him one choice left. But it was a choice we never wanted to consider. He denied himself of ever becoming a blank since he was little. This notorious school flirt always saw himself leading on a successful life alongside his partner. The fear of isolation haunted him to this very day. But tonight he was about to forget all of it. All his problems and questions and shit ton of essays he has to make for next week are to be forgotten this night. 

 

But before anything happened one of the aging car's back tires fell into a pothole with a sudden thud that made Lance yelp in the car's back seat. Fortunately it made him loose his gloomy train of mind. "Sorry there bud." Hunk exclaimed. Hands on the steering wheel eyes on the rear view mirror.

 

"You looked kind of sad there Lance. I was debating on whether or not to film you and add a really sad violin track and upload it somewhere." Pidge said looking back from the passenger seat at Lance. The smug smirk on her face showed no mercy. Knowing her, Lance thought she would turn it into a gif and post it on every forum she could get her hands on.

"I don't know man." Lance laughed off the gloom. He pauses "Who the hell goes to drink in a Wednesday anyway?" He exclaims mostly with his hands. The sudden yank into reality reminded him of why he was in Hunk's old second hand 2004 Toyota he bought with hard earned tip money.

 

His buddy Shiro had been in the process of opening a pub in town for the last couple of months. It was not yet opening day but he decided to celebrate his engagement with his closest pals. 

"Cut him some slack would ya? He won't chance a chance to do this in a while since he opens on Friday." Hunk says as he turns the steering wheel to the nearest parking space. The pub called "The Lions" was in the crowded part of the town. It covered a whole block corner, adorning it with its rustic red bricks and black sign with a yellow font.

 

"We're lucky we don't have any class tomorrow 'cuz I bet one of us is gonna end up wasted after this." Pidge declares while staring and pointing at Lance at that last part. "What are you even saying Pidge" his smirk grew "I'm great at looking out for myself!" Lance filled his ego once again. 

"Last time we went out you almost gave a guy a blow job in an alley for a bag of Doritos." Hunk said without restraint as he opened his car door. Pidge lightly laughs at the memory.

"You should have see that bag before you can say anything about it! I mean I swear it was like a factory bag or something it was immense!" Once again his ego, and this time pride, went down the drain.

 

The trio walked up to the pub and pressed their faces on the glass door, looking inside. Even in his sweatshirt, Lance could feel the autumn chill settling in on top of the summer heat. The evening was cloudy, the sun was setting, and the street lamps began turning on because of the absence of the sun, creating a contrast of yellow and white in the gray and purple of the fading sky. The door opened and Shiro appeared and treated them all with some friendly hugs and a clap on the back. They went inside The Lions. Just like on the outside, the dark red bricks took over the walls. There were antique looking street lamps mounted high on the walls letting out bright yet atmospheric yellow lights on the bar. High stools hugging the walls, sleek black tables in the middle, and the highlight in front. The rich brown bar counter top glistened, and behind were an assortment of liquors and rusted chain decorations complementing the antique lamps. Lance stood in appreciation at the ambience around him. The bars he's been at were rowdy and relentless and mostly packed in game nights. This was a more calm and soothing scene. 

 

Shiro had been talking to the three for a while now about how he was doing and the status of the pub but Lance was seeing everything with intent until his eyes landed on a jet haired stranger sitting behind the bar, counting shot glasses and writing the number on a paper sheet next to him. Shiro noticed Lance's gaze and introduced the stranger. "Ah and this here is Keith." 'Keith?' Lance swore he have had heard the game before.

 

Hunk was the first to comment about it "So this is the Keith Shiro's been talking about. Good to meet you! My name is Hunk."  
Keith smiled and waved while hopping off the high chair, moving closer to the group. Lance remembered now. Keith was Shiro's foster brother he's never heard from a long time until recently, around the time Shiro got engaged. Shiro had mentioned stories about him and what they did as kids when they go out sometimes. Lance didn't remember correctly because he's always been drunk at the time of drunk story telling with his friends. "I'm Pidge and this is-" Pidge signaled at Lance, who was in a trance with the air in front of his eyes. Pidge snapped her fingers and Lance woke up. "Uh, the name's Lance." Keith stationed near Shiro and he started "Keith here is going to work here from now on. So if he messes up or shouts at a customer you can all tell me." Keith scoffed at his brother. 

'Holy shit is that a fucking mullet.' Lance's inner dialogue mumbled.

 

"So Shiro I left the papers in your office. Is there something more?" Keith asked Shiro but Lance could tell he hated saying that. "Don't leave now we're gonna have a couple of drinks to celebrate." 

 

"Celebrate what?" 

 

"My engagement to Allura what else?" Shiro chuckled 

 

"Isn't that a little ironic?"

 

"Why ironic?" Pidge interjected.

"Don't tell me he didn't tell you how he met Allura." Keith snickered, Shiro was looking uneasy next to him.

"Doesn't she work at the arts and crafts store down the road?" Lance asked. 

"Yes but ok so Shiro was-" As Keith began he was cut short by Shiro, who clearly didn't like Keith's side of the story. 

 

About an hour later, they were all sat down in the bar area. Lance was keeping an eye out on the color of the sky outside, which was cobalt blue by now, his favorite color. It's serene color reminded him of the calmness of the beach when he surfed in deep waters. Most times not even doing any actual surfing other than sitting on the board and watching the leaves and ripples the water made when he absentmindedly moves his legs. The only thoughts on his head at that time would be about what was happening right below him. And what would happen if he happened to fall off the surfboard. The color also reminded him of nightclubs and the memories of partying hard with his friends in freshman year of college. Lance's mind in the present was neither sober nor drunk. With only three and a half bottles in he was in the "happy" feeling of mind. He wasn't looking forward to having a hangover the next day. The usually obnoxious and noisy Lance stayed quiet in the tail of the conversation, listening in and keeping his remarks inside, contributing every once in a while like a soft "That's what she said." and being rewarded by a laugh of a chuckle by one and a slight cringe face by Pidge. Instead, his eyes were on some paintings that were more hidden to the customers than intended. The one that caught his eyes more was a grayscale painting of an old cobblestones city in first person view. The painting made you focus on a bundle of flowers perched high on a balcony overlooking the street because it was the only thing in the painting that was in color. The dark pink Crome Chrysanthemum and the wine colored Heather both had a more red hue than what they actually were in real life. In Lance's mind, it was a pretty painting but he didn't consider himself to be no art critic. He tore his eyes off of it and continued paying attention to the conversation. 

It wasn't long until his fifth bottle was open, his silence only made him drink quicker. Everyone else was on their third drink since they all were pretty slow drinkers in Lance's eyes. But Keith's second bottle was still cold. He was behind the bar in front of him. Lance turned his head and without thinking said "You gonna finish that?" Pointing to the bottle. Keith's face turned into a surprised one to then a nervous one. "Ah yea. I just don't wanna get drunk on the job before I even start here." 

 

Lance sniggered at his pure intentions. After another sip he could sense the alcohol kicking in. "You're gonna be fine, man. You got big bro Shiro looking over your sorry ass." Keith sharpened his eyes at Lance for a second, debating if he should take it seriously or shake it off as drunken slurs. "I'm sure he would fire my ass if I do, brother or not." Keith said in a more powerful and slightly angrier tone. Keith was thankful that the rest weren't listening on them. "I doubt that" Lance chuckles "I once knocked down a whole wall of screws and shit back when I worked in my cousin's garage. Ha! You should have seen his face!" He said before he mimicked a face of what Keith thought was supposed to his cousin upon realizing what Lance did, his face contorted to a distraught expression even though his eyes were half closed.

 

Keith knew drunk people were difficult and he knew it was going to be his job from now on. But he never realized his patience was as thin as a strand of hair until now. Three gulps after he started stalking to Keith, Lance was already drunk. It usually took him about 6 or 7 but since the last two were drunk at lightning speed, the effect was quicker. His mind was hazy and unpredictable.

 

Lance stopped talking to Keith after that and started talking with Hunk next to him. It was a little over an hour later that the topic about how Shiro met Allura came up again and this time Keith didn't have to add anything because Shiro had already done his work for him. "Ok so one day believe it or not I got so fucking drunk that I left the bar when Keith wasn't looking and went into the nearest building that happened to be where Allura's apartment is. And then I blacked out and Allura found me the morning later at her door. She then saw my left hand and the rest is history."

The three started laughing hard (for drunk people) and Lance began pounding the bar countertop so hard that Shiro had to step in before he damaged it. A while later Shiro went and hooked up the stereo system around the pub to blast some radio tunes. Unfortunately for Keith he picked out a station that broadcasted house music non stop, the kind he hated. Keith wondered what would he be doing if he hadn't come that day. He would've been working or catching up on a show or falling asleep. He really enjoyed going out but he preferred going out alone. He could put his headphones in and not worry about matching the other's pace or if he had to remember what the other one was saying. In his situation right now he felt uncomfortable with a pang of intrusion. He appreciated when Shiro went out of his way to introduce him to his friends but all of his energy goes to waste anyway since Keith has never been the chatty type. Time and sound seemed dull to Keith as he played with his cold third bottle in his fingers.

 

Keith could feel time as well the night dwindling down. He saw less and less people walking outside. The conversation and laughter lowered faded out so now the house music was more prominent on everyone's ears than ever. Pidge looked like she was asleep on the countertop. Lance made a stray comment about if everyone was sure Pidge was over legal drinking age but no one payed attention to it. Sooner or later Shiro clapped his hands together and awkwardly made it clear that the night was over. Other than Keith, Hunk was the most sober since he stopped drinking since house music was turned on. Hunk helped carry Pidge into his car. While Shiro was closing up the pub, Lance wrapped an arm around Keith's neck, pressing their faces together making the smell of beer on Lance's breath intolerable

"Mmm, you're shorter than I thought you'd be."Lance said, even if it sounded like a slur of letters at the start. The sudden close contact made Keith's heart to involuntarily pound and for his face to feel warm.

"You're like an inch taller shut the fuck up." Keith sighed. Keith's view of Lance has had a drastic change all throughout the night. From 'stranger' to 'pretty chill guy' to 'obnoxious' and finally to 'nuisance'. He later had to push Lance off of him because he felt he was leaning on him and he wasn't prepared to be a human cushion. Shiro then handed his car keys over to Keith. "What's this about?" Keith eyed the keys and spoke softly. 

"I'm done for tonight Keith." Shiro slashed his hand through his neck "Can you drive for us please?" Keith knew that by 'us' he said himself and Lance. Keith seriously gave it a moment's thought. His apartment was not far and he didn't mind walking. Although he would feel shitty after, he would feel shitty if he did it as well. The thing Keith wanted more than anything is sleep, silence second but he then thought of Shiro, who even though they haven't seen each other in years still considered Keith his brother and accepted him into his circle of friends and gave him a job when he most needed one. The feeling outweighed the wanting. Keith reluctantly snatched the keys and made way to the car. Shiro sat shotgun and Lance stumbled in clumsily into the backseat. "Where to?" Keith asked to no one but still expecting an answer. Shiro sighed out the street address, knowing that Keith would get irritated at driving all the way out to the other side of town just to get back at where he started to finish dropping off Shiro. Thankfully, Keith didn't say anything about it and just shifted the gear to drive.

 

The streets were empty except for your average businessman driving home, your average train making its last round through the city, your average van filled with friends hanging out. 'Wait, who the hell goes partying on a Wednesday?' Keith's thoughts wondered. He peeked at his passengers, Shiro was looking out the window with a lowered glance at the sidewalk beside the car. Lance was asleep by the looks of it. A stream of yellow light from a lamppost will shine into the car window every two seconds showering Lance's unknowing yet peaceful face with light that brought out his cheekbones and other features. The silence was thickening and it would've been appreciated but in there circumstances, Keith thought it was extremely awkward. He turned on the radio and searched for a station that was playing some nice background music for the journey. He stoped on an indie song that normally wouldn't be his taste, but the rhythmic and repetitive drum sound sounded soothing. The beat was easy and soon after found himself tapping the steering wheel softly. He couldn't really understand the lyrics because of the low volume and the singer's accent but nonetheless he whisper-hummed along with the chorus. It was a peaceful song until the loud line that said 'And everyone's dead'. After that the song ended the station carried on with the next. Keith thought it wasn't as good as the last one, he still had the beat in his head. After endless curves and intersections Keith went slowing down around the address Shiro gave him. By now Lance had opened his eyes but Keith wouldn't have said he was awake. "Here." An unrecognizable raspy voice halted Keith's foot on the pedal. Lance hopped off the car and gave his thanks to Shiro before walking to the tall doors and unlocking them and stepping inside. 

The way back was quick and silent. Going through the same streets he just drove past minutes ago. This all played out in Keith's head like a dream he was bound to wake up from. His eyelids were heavy and already closing by just remembering he had to wake up early in the morning. He waved at Shiro as he hopped on and climbed the stairs one step at a time. He had said something before he left but in the state Keith was in, he couldn't process it. He felt like he was dreaming.

Keith was alone now. A huge stress that had been on his shoulders felt light. The night was cooler than the ones before. A small smile crept up to his lips at the thought of his favorite season. He tilted his head at the sky and marched forwards towards his apartment not too far away. Even with almost all of the buildings' lights being off the sky was nothing more than just a bucket painted canvas of black with a white dot as the moon. Keith thought back on the night he had. He thought Shiro's friends always seemed like the best but he felt like he would never know them like Shiro knew them. He appreciated the gesture again nonetheless. The soles of his shoes echoed in the lonely town steady and rhythmic like the song on the radio. He turned a corner and was going up the apartment complex's stairs in no time. Upon opening his door he decided to fuck changing his clothes and went straight towards his bed and quickly wrapping himself under the covers enjoying the warmth after walking on a breezy night. 

 

He looked up at the ceiling and brought up his left hand. He took off the fingerless gloves he has been wearing the whole day. He looked at his ink with restraint. He hated looking at it. A half of his heart is dying to know when he was going to meet his soulmate, more importantly who. But the other side was set on living alone for the rest of his life, knowing that no one would be dying to be with him if they knew their soulmate was him. He wondered if they were tall or small. Or if they liked dogs or cats, plants or space; Man or woman. These thoughts were the snowflake that ended with an avalanche but Keith wasn't gonna have it today and rolled to his side and shut his eyes for the sleep he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading until the end!  
> The song mentioned is 'The 1975-Robbers'


	2. Chapter 2

Lance is not a morning person. He may have woken up before sunrise this day but he remained disgruntled all throughout the remainder of it. He remembered the two essays he had to hand in on Monday the day before. It was then he became an anxious mess of caffeine driven, slushy brain functions. He had almost pulled an all nighter although he had slept on the keyboard for five minutes at a time while pressing on a key and making a paragraph of continuous 'J's. And now he had to go print both of the minimum 500 word essays at the public library. 

 

It wasn't his first time pulling an all nighter for a last minute paper and it wasn't anyone else's. He fully knew how far one had to go to be the first one to use the only working public printer in town. The first time he thought it was going to be a breeze if he went there half an hour before his morning lecture but contrary to his prediction, there were countless other college students holding a USB steadily in their hands as they were in line to use the printer. The lesson was fully learned with a 30 minute long lecture about responsibility at his age at the hands of his professor. This time Lance was pulling all the stops. 

 

He left his apartment so early the train wasn't even running. He had to walk a handful of blocks before the above ground train caught up to him. He hopped inside it when he got to the nearest station. He suspected he was the only one using it since his cart and the ones on either side of it were empty. He took a seat and stretched his long and tired legs on the nearby set of seats and leaned back and let the thrust of sudden movement jerk him backwards. 

 

He looked out the window to see the sleeping town slowly waking up. Cars being driven off sidewalks, joggers stepping out of their doors, elders going out to their iron handle balconies and enjoying the view as much as Lance was from inside the train. The town was very much still covered in shadows except for the sudden rays of fresh sunlight that stinged Lance's still sleep derived eyes that made their way through the spaces between tall and old buildings and in through alleyways. The train stopped every once in a while like it always did with a screeching sound that most likely plagued the residents of the nearby apartments.

 

Out of the window he saw a bakery opening its shop for business and beside it was a woman in sports apparel taking her dog out for a walk. Before Lance could think much about it the train already sped off to its next stop. The next stop wasn't as interesting. More shops opening, your usual drunk guy making his way home, he saw a lady almost tripping because of a bump in the sidewalk. 

 

It wasn't until the next stop that made Lance's never ending wandering eyes halt. He saw a couple. There wasn't really anything that made Lance's eyes to stay in them for the while duration of the train's stop. The were walking close to each other, holding hands, but it was the look in their eyes that made Lance's whole body cave in with emptiness. They looked at each other with wonder and amazement. They looked at each other like the other one was their world. They looked at each other like that because it was their 'fate', just like the ink on their hands said. At this, Lance felt intrusive and rude, even though no one was watching him. If one were to ask him how exactly he felt like at the moment, he would say 'mad' but deep down he knew that wasn't the right adjective. He felt like he was listening to a joyous and happy song on a sad day. He felt like that moment one realizes they just fucked up something real bad. He felt like shit. 

 

He felt like it was all happening because of himself because he only had himself to blame. 'If only I was smarter and less obnoxious.' 'If only I was more mature like my friends.' 'If only I had ink on my hand.' It was this that made Lance stop thinking momentarily. He had encountered he source of his problems. 

 

He hated being alone. It always led him to ride this train of thought that started off nowhere but ended in a really deep and dark place of Lance's subconscious containing all of his fears and shitty thoughts about himself. At the same time he was grateful it only happened to him when he was alone, at least right now. He would hate if either Pidge or Hunk were to see him in this state. All shriveled, pathetic, gloomy, and so-not-Lance. He didn't want to worry them with his problems and situations that he could take care of himself. His breathing was picking up now and his heart was beating hard yet it ached and throbbed with sadness and he felt the area around his eyes heat up as he could feel tears forming. But they would be short lived as Lance wiped them off as he sat up straight and tried to regain his composure. Even though he was alone he couldn't let himself cry.

 

He no longer watched out the window, he looked at the opposite side of the train cart in concentration, to distract his mind and discard his thoughts. He took out his phone for no reason other than the simple fact that he needed something else on his mind. He checked his e-mails, cleared call history, re-read group message texts between Hunk, Pidge, and Lance on a chat hilariously called "Memers Anonymous". He began to cool off as he read their last messages like how the week before Pidge had been texting them the answers to a science exam while she was in another class meanwhile Hunk and Lance were discretely hiding their phones as they wrote nonsense on the paper to pretend like they were writing. 

 

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips with distant happiness. He looked up to see the train was beginning to slow down right in front of his destination. He grabbed his backpack and fully discharged his thoughts and made hast out of the train cart. The library was small but enough for the town's residents. By looking at the staff Lance could tell they had just opened its doors. Most of them were wearing faces in dire need of sleep alongside a cup of coffee.

 

Some quick hellos and good mornings here and there were made as Lance made a beeline straight towards the computers. Even with the sunrise lighting entering through the windows Lance could see his reflection on the dusty old monitor. He noticed he needed to shave and instantly regretted last night as it made him sink slower and slower into his jacket with the intent of hiding his face to the public. He poked around his face and felt the icky stubble on the pads of his fingers along with some stress induced pimples along his chin."What is this, high school?" He joked to himself, like he did all the time. The reassurance of corny and shitty humor soothed Lance out of things to be worried about. 

 

Lance had already finished printing both of his essays in time a hoard of also sleep deprived college students entered the library. He composed himself and boosted his pride to a minimum 8 and headed out the doors. Lance saw that he had plenty of time to spare before going to school. The streets were crowded with commuters at this hour now. Intersections were busy and people were rushing on the sidewalks. Lance's feet drove him to his favorite coffee shop which was relatively close to The Lions. Upon arriving, all the outside tables were taken either by hungry and intimidating businessmen or small families. He scanned the scene once again in search for empty tables. In the end he didn't but he recognized a familiar face; Better said, a hairstyle. 

 

"I'd recognize that mullet anywhere" Lance grumbles under his breath and made his way through clanking metal seats and working waiters. Keith was scrolling through his phone at the time with boredom plastered all over his face. "Hey Keith." Lance tried to sound as friendly as possible even though he was dying of awkwardness in the inside. Keith's first reaction was a wide eyed one and Lance wasn't sure if that was good or bad. 

 

"H-Hey. How's it going?" Keith replied back. 

"Good, good. I'm good." Lance stared at his feet and fingers."Um, so, is there any chance I can maybe sit with you? Since all the tables are taken and I've been craving some grilled cheese." Lance scanned the nearby tables in nervousness. "Oh! But it's not like I don't want to sit with you here, right now, if you let me."  
'Great going Lance' He thought.

 

"Sure then I guess. Take a seat." His eyebrows knit and one side of his mouth upturned in amusement. 

 

Lance sat down and ordered his mentioned grilled cheese without missing a beat. Both males sat in silence and increasing awkwardness. Lance knew it was those times that he had to use his ego and try to make a conversation spark out of what he had. 

 

"So, how long have you've been in town?" He wondered if that was an adequate question to break the ice. Even though he also thought it was a shitty question. 

 

"About a year or so. Shiro kinda made me come down here around the time we has looking for a place to open a pub. I really like it here though." He took a sip of his drink. "Especially in the morning." He gazed towards the sun already perched in the blue scene along the horizon.

 

"Are you crazy? What kind of person brings themselves to this atrocity? The only reason I'm here is because if I wasn't I would have had my ass handed to me because I was late." He squinted at the same sun Keith basked in. 

 

Keith shrugged, taken aback by his response "I don't know I just like them. They're kinda calm." 

 

"And stressful."

 

"You only say that because you look like you haven't slept in a week." 

 

"Well you're not wrong!" Lance tried to smooth down his disheveled hair.

 

"Huh, doing what?" He raised his eyebrows.

 

"Writing two fucking essays for today. I swear once this day is over-" Lance raked his hands over his hair and lowered his head once the waitress brought his food and Keith's which he could've ordered before he came along. Without a second thought he grabbed the grilled cheese and dug in. 

 

"Now this, this is worth it" he said and pointed to the grilled cheese once he swallowed. 

 

"What is? It's just a sandwich." Keith commented while picking at his pastry with his fork. 

 

"Just a sandwich you say? I never thought one would call this ambrosia 'just a sandwich'." Lance said with a hand on his heart and a dramatic distraught face. He grabbed a knife and cut out a bit size piece. "Here. Taste it." He said handing it out to Keith. 

 

"What. Why?" 

 

"I'm telling you it's the best grilled cheese in town and it's for a fucking reason." He shoved it closer to his face to prove a point. "Eat up."

 

"No thanks." He said not-so-thankfully. There was an irritation burning between his chest and back and the realization that the quiet morning was over.

 

"What's wrong? You scared?" Lance joked like a small child. In Lance's eyes Keith looked like the type to be competitive, just like himself. 

 

"Alright fine I will." He took the piece of. Read and cheese between his index and thumb and brought it to his mouth. Lance noticed something he hadn't before. He was wearing a glove on his left hand. 

 

~

"...Most people nowadays tend go around sporting long sleeves or gloves with the intentions of hiding their ink or to just pretend it wasn't there at all. Some people do it because they believe they aren't ready for a relationship, others do it because they never want to find their soul mate or other would just go with the fashion trend. (......)Elders today sometimes scold and belittle modern generations for it because they are 'Interfering with fate.'" 

-Excerpt from A. Smith's 'Modern Ink' 

~

 

Aside from that, Lance noticed that Keith wasn't wearing a second glove and there wasn't any reason to just wear the one unless if it is to just look stupid. Which meant that Keith already had his ink mark. Another worry to Lance's list. 

 

"You're right it's pretty good." Keith responded after swallowing it. 

 

"Of course! I told you you'll like it!" Lance discarded the thought, once again. 

 

"You didn't say anything like that."

 

"But one could say I did." 

 

"You're impossible." Keith said as he brought up his hand to massage the space between his eyebrows. 

"Hey now, impossible is my middle name." 

 

"That's so fucking cheesy holy shit." 

 

"Cheesy is also my-"

 

"Don't you dare finish that joke."

 

"This is a free world I can do what I want." 

 

"Why are you like this."

 

"I could ask the same about you." They stared at each other's eyes for a small while but for the two the moment lasted an eternity, but its wasn't a bad one.

 

At this Keith had to answer. He looked at his phone and suddenly started finishing his food and digging in his pocket. 

 

"I'm gonna be late for something." He put 5 dollars on the table. "I gotta go now then. Bye." 

 

"Bye then." He watched as he headed off and Keith momentarily turned back and waved him goodbye one last time with his gloved hand.

 

That alone made Lance's curiosity and sense of humor spring into action. Most inks depict something about one's personality that they and their partner share in common. He thought Keith's ink could probably be just a black sphere and he would say that it represent his soul, he thought Keith was edgy enough for it to be true. 

 

He payed what he owed and hopped on the train in direction to the university. 

 

________________________

 

The Friday that same week Lance got off the train right in front of The Lions, thinking he would pay them a visit. It was a Holiday that day and the town's signs read closed but he knew he was welcome at the pub. He tugged on his backpack and stepped in the yellow light lit pub and the door chime clinked. "Oh, it's just Lance." A female voice said before he could look up. Allura was sitting at the bar with a martini straw in between her slender fingers. 

 

"Don't say that Allura." Shiro chastised his fiancée with little result. Coran huffed in amusement beside her. "Evening Lance!" He raised a can of soda at him. 

 

"At least Coran appreciates some fine company!" Lance directs at Allura who was tranquilly enjoying her drink. 

 

"Define 'fine'." Keith joked as he cleaned the tables next to Lance. Allura laughed with a pretty smile "Look who's warming up to Lance already." 

 

"I wouldn't say 'warming up'. More like 'putting up '." Shiro said and untied his small black work apron. Keith laughed next to him. He finished cleaning the table and stood straight to look at Lance.

 

"You're gonna get anything?" He pointed at the bar. "I'm still on the clock." 

 

"I'll have a coke I guess." He said and walked to the bar. 

 

"So what's been going on Lance? Long time no see. Still flirting with that Nyma girl?" Allura joked. 

 

"Wow Allura you're on some old gossip. Nyma was weeks ago. I've already moved on." Lance sipped on the can of coke. 

 

"Meaning she dumped you." Shiro added nonchalantly 

 

"Now that you say that, Hunk came by one day to the shop and mentioned some tissues were involved after that fiasco." Coran pointed out. 

 

Lance audibly gasped and lightly slammed his can against the table. "I can't believe! Hunk? How could he! All the people I trust are turning against me!" 

 

"Lance did you make sure that she wasn't inked?" She stared at the ceiling. 

 

He ignored her and continued his dramatic discourse "Oh how I've been deceived!" He looked at Keith "Oh innocent Keith! Promise me you'd never do something like this!" He intertwined his fingers and pretended to beg. Keith tapped his chin and feigned thought. "I promise nothing." 

 

"Keith is in our side now." Allura grinned and let out a small cackle. 

 

"I won't forget this Keith." Lance pointed at him and Kieth scoffed at his intimidation tactic while cleaning the rest of some glasses. Lance laughed at himself and then at Keith. He'd never met someone who took his jokes the way Keith took them. Pidge would cringe at them or reject them and Hunk would half of the time not get the joke and sometimes say "Ha, good joke buddy." But they were nothing against Keith because he brushed them off so well. Genuine interest was growing in Lance's mind without him noticing. Next to desire to tease him more. 

 

He tilted his head to get all the soda in his mouth and drank the last drop. "You owe me a real drink next time." He crushed the can and looked at Keith straight in the eye.

 

"Why the fuck. What did I do?" Keith stared in confusion. 

 

"Hurt my feelings." Lance faked a sniffle.

 

"Sure whatever you say." He dismissed it with a wave of the hand. 

 

"If you didn't notice, I plan to be a loyal customer to this bar. So hear me when I say you owe me a drink tomorrow!" 

 

Shiro laughed at the ongoing conversation going on beside him. "Keith doesn't work on weekends." 

 

Lance glimpsed at Shiro and cast his eyes once again on Keith's face. "The hell you mean you don't work in weekends? I have to wait 'till Monday to get my free drink?" 

 

"I do have have another job y'know" he said. His voice bordering on irritation once again. He kneaded his temples. "I have a life as well." 

 

"I know, I know." Lance ran his eyes across the background of assorted bottles and small wood carvings behind Keith. "Quite interesting." He muttered with a smirk slowly creeping in on his face. 

 

"What are you even on about." Keith said more to himself than to someone else. He meant it to be a whisper but only Lance heard it. Lance kept his sight on a pair of dimples on either side of Keith's face as he laughed to the ground. The other bar visitors were having a different conversation than their own. Far much louder and joyous. But for a moment all noises and distractions of the outside world seem to dim as the moment was suspended in air. An air reeking of liquor yet warm enough to capture Lance'a body and soul. His heart beats were slow and his smile was creeping up. 

 

"It's been a slow week." He said softly. Their conversation was completely detached from the other party's. He rested his head in his hand. 

"Finally, something we can agree on." Keith mumbled and mimicked Lance's pose upon the bar. 

"I disagree on that." Lance chuckled "My friends say I'm pre-tty relatable. There must be something else we cold agree on. "

 

Keith let out a small laugh. "I doubt that." 

 

"Are you calling me out on bullshit?" 

 

"Yes, I call bullshit on you Lance." 

 

Seconds passed and Lance didn't have a proper response for that. It was only afterwards that he notice it was the first time Keith had called him by his name but he didn't think to much of it. It was merely an observation he made at the moment. 

 

"Well...Keith" he added time between words for emphasis. He then laughed at the ground for his awkward loss of words. "The only other way for you to truly know if that's bullshit is for you to get to know me." 

 

"Wise answer." He sighed. Keith brought up his left hand to rest upon the bar and began to slowly tap his short nails on the glossy wood top. His leather fingerless gloves glistened as the small light fixtures over head created a spot light on it for just Lance's eyes. 

 

"Keith" Shiro's voice intruded the bubble of silence the two have made for themselves. "You can head out. I'll close up shop." 

 

Lance took out his phone from his pocket and opened it to look at the time. It was late but not too late to catch the last train. "Oh shit yea I should get going too." He announced to the rest of the bar's tenants as he picked up his things and headed out.

 

"Hold the door." Keith's voice peeked out from behind Lance as he passed through the pub's doorway. He did as good and held out the door for Keith to grab on. 

 

Outside, the chilly air made way to Lance's bare arms. He immediately regretted not bringing his usual jacket along with him. Keith stood beside a shiny black motorcycle with a red jacket already zipped up. 

 

"That's your bike?" Lance asked what he already knew the answer to. 

 

"Yea it is." He said as his hand dug in his pocket, looking for the keys. 

 

In the horizon, Lance saw the train approaching rapidly. Knowing he would only have a minute to get to the roadside station he began to cross the street without even looking both ways. Halfway through he turned around and waved goodbye to Keith who was already mounted on his bike. 

 

On a nearly empty train cart, both the train and Keith's bike started running to their destination at the same time. Lance glued his eyes to Keith's bike as they entered in a mental race that only lasted three seconds until both the train and Keith turned at different intersections. The last thing Lance saw was Keith's bright jacket until that too was engulfed by the night's darkness. 

 

_________________________

The next Monday Lance strolled into the bar as he promised the week before he'd do. He prompted himself on an empty chair beside two businessmen that were directly in front of where Keith was. 

 

"I think you know what I'm here for." Lance said and his smirk grew once he saw Keith's 'what the fuck Lance' face he already learned to have when dealing with Lance.

 

But yet, a smile crept along Keith's face. Lance's grin absentmindedly grew genuinely at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> You can find me on instagram:@syremia  
> Feedback is appreciated too !!


	3. Chapter 3

"Lance it's closing time." Shiro declared and turned the open/closed sign at the door.

"Wait a second. I gotta write this e-mail." Lance bit his nails in thought before he typed away on his old laptop.Lance had just happened to bring along his bag along with all his books and laptop that day. After seconds of tipping and tapping sounds filled the pub Shiro turned around to face Lance "Are you using our wifi?!" 

"Contrary to what you think, 'BlackLion123' isn't that secure of a password." Lance explained calmly as he was about to click send. 

"Why is Lance still here?!" Keith's shout came from the staff room. He emerged from the hallway in his casual, non-work clothes, leather glove still on. He walked behind the bar and stood in front of where Lance was sitting. Keith eyed Lance's laptop cover which was covered in stickers. Some looked unnecessary, some looked intentionally pulled off, others looked like they came right out of a little girl's sticker book (Keith then wondered if he had any younger siblings). The only one that stood out was a big NASA logo sticker. Keith recalled that Shiro used to have a giant poster of the NASA logo back when they lived together as kids. It would be the first thing that Shiro saw when he woke up since it was at his bedside. 

"I'm offended." Lance voice oozed sarcasm right before he took a sip of an already warm soda. 

"This isn't a damn coffee shop." Keith sighed. 

"Coffee shops have shitty wifi." Lance shut his laptop." Anyways, what coffee shop gives me this quality bartender service?" He raised his eyebrows at Keith. 

Keith mocked his smile and crossed his arms. "Very funny." 

"It's ok." Lance stretched his back and arms and let out a yawn. "I see I'm no longer accepted here." 

"You're gonna need to pay that now." Keith pointed to his drink. 

"Put it in my tab." Lance winked and sneered. 

Keith's face twisted in annoyance. "Like hell I will!" But it was too late since Lance already had jumped down the bar stool and strolled across the room without care. In just a couple of weeks, Lance has become The Lion's first regular. Oddly enough, he is only found in the pub on weekdays, chatting with Keith. He'd bother him while he took other customer's orders and when he was cleaning up tables after everyone left. Most of the time they end up bickering. 

The door bells rang and Lance was gone. Shiro held his chuckle under wraps but nothing escaped Keith's eyes. "And what are you laughing about?" He slowly moved out of the bar area while still watching Shiro."Quite a friend you made." 

"Friend?" Keith scoffed. He caught Shiro raising an eyebrow at him. He looked at him and at Lance's retreating and diminishing backside and back at Shiro again. He soothed his voice out from its anger. "I doubt he thinks it like that." He leaned back on the bar counter, propping his arms behind him. Silence stung the air as it normally would do when the loudest customer would leave. Keith caught a glimpse of Lance's train speeding by but not him in it. Both of them stood without moving. 

"Keith." Shiro called him. Keith made a sound of acknowledgment. 

"You know... that he's a blank. Right?" Shiro worded it carefully and with no intentions of offense. 

 

"Yea, I've noticed." Keith's eyes were on the floor now. His voice barely above a whisper but since the streets outside were silent and no one in the room dared to break tension. "Why'd you ask?" He hesitated. 

 

~

 

"Blanks are rare but they were never praised for it throughout history. Ink-less people are most of the time associated with miserable or bitter people wether it be by the media or folklore. Recent studies show that blanks are more susceptible of becoming victims of isolation or even bullying by colleges and peers both in school and the workplace."

-Excerpt from F. Jones' 'Fated: The history and mystery of soulmates'

 

~

 

"Know what? Forget it. I don't like talking about it." Keith said after a second of thought with a dismissing wave of a hand. It wasn't no surprise to Shiro that Keith desired to not talk about the topic. Shiro knew Keith has had it rough back in high school when he himself thought he was going to be a blank. Having lived through the experience himself, Keith felt sympathy not only for Lance but blanks in general. 

 

"I'll close up today. Goodnight Keith." Shiro glanced at his non-blood brother, thinking he put him in a bad mood. Keith grabbed his items and bid his goodbye softly before speeding off in his bike. 

 

The silence of the town on a weekday was insufferable. The only thing Keith had to distract himself from his thoughts has the sound of wind going 30mph and his adrenaline making his heart pound much faster. He thought back of Lance that day. Keith noticed he has been acting much stranger the last couple of times he has come strolling trough that door. Gloomier and gloomier by the day, somehow. Dark circles had developed under his eyes and his movements had become almost lethargic. Subtlety, Keith worried. 

 

_____________________

 

Keith lived in his own workplace. Which has littered with drops of acrylic paint and the occasional dirty paintbrush laying on the floor. Empty canvases with ideas barely sketched out in a pile on one side, and finished works on the other. A string of reference photos near their respectful easel next to sculpture practices. Even Keith has troubles navigating his own art filled maze throughout the studio apartment. 

 

Keith hated the 'struggling artist' stereotype but unfortunately he was the embodiment of it. There weren't many places in the city that were looking for artists and he was already fired from the ones that did. Mostly for 'Hostility towards co-workers' which he didn't understand why. For now he was living off commission money from small businesses and the pub money. But beside that he has been looking into the town's art gallery to see if his work could be put there. 

 

He bound together several done pieces on canvas together for the train ride since it was risky to haul them into his bike. Some as big as his forearm and others that normally require two people to lift up. He was to meet up with a certain gallery director that day so Keith tried to convince him with his best works of different mediums and his best attitude. While on the busy morning rush train, he luckily found two empty seats for himself and his giant briefcase-like carrier. 

 

The small gallery was empty in the morning. He greeted the director formally. The words 'don't fuck this up' were chanted like a mantra in his head as he shook his hand politely. He then opened and displayed is works up against the wall for viewing. Slowly like a predator, the director and critic examined each and every canvas and picked out every mistake or anomaly. Under his eyes, every brush stroke was apparent and made stand out. 

 

After five minutes of heart grueling anxiety the man turned around and met Keith face to face. The director started "I'm sorry but-" "You're not taking them?" Keith almost yelled at the sound of the apology. Bewildered, he answers "You didn't let me finish." He turned around and paced slowly around each one. "What we look for here are pieces that are sure to sell in auctions. Your flowers look bland and your landscapes look like they could be bought in a Walmart."

 

Words like that struck a chord in Keith's chest. He almost felt like leaving. But he did not. He stood there and even though he swayed, he wanted to hear the end. "But." He raised his finger. Keith's face brightened. "I see you have the ability intentions now to do better. Therefore I will give you a second chance." 

 

Keith stared at the older man in eyebrow-knit confusion. "B-But Sir! How do I do that? I mean, I've been trying sculpting and-" "Paint for yourself, not for others. But first find a new inspiration!" The director smiled at Keith. He walked pass him and put his hand on Keith's shoulder. "I hope to see you soon." And he walked away. Keith was left alone in the gallery with his paintings. He didn't know what to feel. Frustrated about his harsh criticism of grateful for the second chance. 'Find a new inspiration.' The voice in his head repeated. His style had flaws, that goes without saying, but he was confident that it would push through. It may have been quite repetitive at certain points but thats for what he has been hired for recently. Keith steadied his breath to calm his mad yet anxious heart. He gathered his items once again and made way outside into the sunny day. 

 

________________________

 

Later that evening it was time to get to his shift. It being a Friday, Keith brought along more energy drinks with him to keep in the staff room. Aside from energy drinks, he was grateful for Matt also having a shift on Friday along with the weekend. This time instead of entering through the front door, Keith thought it was better for his brother not to know he came in late and instead used the back door. He came out of the staff room with a glide and settled himself next to Matt behind the bar as he grabbed bottles for a busy table. 

 

"You're late." He talked low without looking at him. 

 

"Yea I know that." He readied himself to serve some new faces in the bar until. 

 

"Hey hey! Guess who's late!" 

 

Lance

 

He didn't just say it. He yelled it so Shiro, who was on the other side of the room could acknowledge it. And as predicted, he turned his head right after serving a table to look straight at Keith with his trademark 'Disappointed Dad Face' which Matt and him had agreed to call. 

 

Keith went straight into work but not before shooting Lance a dirty glare. "Bastard doesn't even look sorry." He mumbled through gritted teeth while filling a glass cup. Lance sat along with Pidge and Hunk with a satisfied yet devilish grin on his face. Keith didn't exactly think it but he knew that Lance looked better than how he last saw him. There was a more upbeat vibe to him and the color returned to his eyes. Keith leaned on the brick wall in front of Lance and his friends. "That was a dick move Lance." Said Pidge. 

 

"I agree." Keith seconded as he stared and anticipated Lance' reaction. 

 

"Where did your bartender hospitality go man?" Lance waved his arms. "Aren't you supposed to like say 'How'd your day go? Want a refil? On the house' to which I'd say 'Thanks buddy! You're the best!'" "You've been watching too much Cheers!." Keith said back. 

 

"'Thanks buddy'?" Hunk questioned, turning to meet Lance. "Hey it was the best I could make up on spot don't push me." Said Lance

 

"With all the dumb shit you've pulled on Keith in surprised he hasn't left." Pidge told Lance"Money's tight." Keith sighed to which Pidge snapped her finger and mumbled "Preach." and raise her glass.

Keith continued working by refilling glasses and stashing peanuts at his customer's reach. He'd sometimes need to leave the counter top to refill a table strides away when everyone else was busy doing the same, leaving it temporarily empty. Between these sprints in and out he was left out of breath and once again leaned on the wall in front of Lance and his friends. Booming music overtook the pub along with its guests' clamoring and cheers. It all seemed to shut off as he was left not really hearing anything, a feeling almost like being trapped in a dream. The words they spoke didn't reach Keith's ears even though they could just a few minutes ago. 

 

His eyes wandered before they fell on Lance. He was speaking, but Keith wasn't good at reading lips. Lance's eyes were all over the place as it looked like he was re telling a story. Keith now noticed for the first time his eyes weren't brown, instead they lean into a more marine blue hue. Now paying attention, Keith tried to zoom in on his facial features like his straight jawline and his perfect nose and his chiseled cheekbones. His long and slender fingers gracefully danced in the air for emphasis and his skin glowed under the yellow lights. Every time he blinked his long eyelashes seemed to hat in slow motion. Suddenly they batted at Keith's direction and opened his mouth, his voice boomed in comparison to the thoughtful silence Keith created for himself. "Keith you ok there?" He said with a sympathetic, yet friendly smile. 

 

Realizing he'd been caught staring he came up with a last minute excuse. "Sorry I zoned off." He combed his hair across with his fingers. 

 

"My brother's calling you." Pidge pointed to Matt with a straw. He needed help filling several long glasses or beer. He began to do his job even more hastily or recklessly than before, nearly bumping into Shiro who had his arms filled with shot glasses (courtesy of the team of lawyers near the door who had just won a case). Ideas clouded Keith's mind like clouds flying on a stormy day.Amidst it all, Keith now had the urge then and now to grab a pencil or pen or anything he could draw with. He already had a vision of his now blank and empty canvas. Scratch that, multiple empty canvases lulled to colorful life inside Keith's mind. 

 

He was set out to find an inspiration and he brought back a muse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda sort chapter tho but don't worry the plot is building up !  
> Critique and feedback is highly appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

It was another simple quiet working day at the bar where Lance sat and once again he had brought his laptop and sat at the bar next to the brick wall. He noticed he arrived a tad bit too early when he came inside and neither Shiro nor Keith were at the bar, where they would usually be. The sun was still up in the sky and there were a handful of hours until nighttime began. Thinking the staff wouldn't mind his early entrance, he took his seat and began typing a simple essay. He later heard footsteps coming out of the staff room and a sudden stomping stop. 

"Jesus fucking Christ Lance you scared the crap out of me." It was Keith who looked ready to fight what he thought was a burglar but instead was just Lance. 

Lance lifted his eyes lazily from the screen to look at Keith. He forced out a snort. "Easily scared?" He said with a smirk. 

"Fuck you." Said Keith with a short laugh. He placed his palms on the glossy wooden countertop and looked at Lance. "What do you want?" He said with an exasperated tone. 

"I want a good greeting and positive vibes from you unless you want a bad review on Yelp." Lance didn't take his eyes of the screen neither did his fingers stop tapping the keyboard. He heard Keith sigh in frustration and felt his glowering eyes on him. 

"Good afternoon. Can I get you anything?" Keith's voice was monotonous and was riddled with sarcasm and slight anger. 

Lance peered his face from the screen. "We'll work on that." He slightly shut his laptop. "I'll have a can of coke." In a few seconds, Keith placed his can in front of him under a napkin. Lance opened it and chugged down. 

Keith had pulled a spare stool into his workplace and sat on it and put his head in his hand on the counter, waiting for more business. Lance couldn't tell, but Keith would often steal glances at his face and softly glide his finger on the bar counter to his features like he was somehow fingerprinting while he pretended to look outside. 

"Where's Shiro?" Lance said to beat the awkward silence around them. 

"I'd like to know that too." He ran his hand through his hair. "He just told me he was gonna run a few errands." Keith answered. Yet typing filled the room again. Hesitantly, Keith asked "Hey Lance. Are you sick or something? You're looking kinda shitty." 

In all honesty, Lance wasn't feeling fine. In those last few days Lance had been unable to sleep properly. He would lie down but his eyes would be up at the ceiling instead of being closed. And even when his eyes were heavy and he wanted to sleep, his mind would run wild through memories and future dreams through the remainder of the night resulting little to no sleep. Instead of fighting it he would sit on his sofa and scroll through his phone. Aside from that he has had to keep up with schoolwork and all sorts and he just couldn't find the right state of mind to work when he was in his little apartment. He had tried to go to the library but it was far too quiet in there for him to think straight. 

Lance paused typing and finally shut his laptop and shoved it to the side. He rubbed his palms on his eyes and yawned. "Nah I'm not sick, just really tired. It's just-" he smoothed down his hair. "Finals are coming and the teachers are giving us hellfire to go through y'know? Wait. On second thought, I've never seen you in any class." 

"Um- I don't go to college, if that's what you're asking." Keith said somewhat apologetically, shifting in his seat. 

"Yea you said that you have two jobs, right?" He picked up the can again and sipped. 

"Yea. I'm kinda of an artist"

"You any good?" Lance's eyes shot up from sleep at the new and unexpected information about Keith. 

"Yea I guess." Keith said with a sheepish smile. "That one over there's one of mine." He pointed towards the hall leading to the staff room where the gray cityscape and flowers painting was hung. 

"Really?" Lance pointed and stood up from the stool and started moving closer to the painting. "That's yours? It's amazing!" 

"Thanks. Shiro actually bought it from me." He scratched his head and smiled. He feigned being uninterested but Lance could tell he was flattered. "Even though I told him not to but he wanted to help me out." 

Lance was face to face with the painting. He first noticed it the first time he was there but hasn't paid too much attention to it since. He now could see the detail put into every inch of building Keith put. At the bottom was a small white 'K' that Lance figured was the signature. 

"K for Keith?" Lance asked and turned around towards him, who was anxiously waiting for Lance to say something to spare him from the awkward spotlight. 

"No actually it's for Kogane. Er- my birth parents' last name." Keith put it in a simple way so Lance could understand. 

"Keith Kogane huh." Lance absentmindedly said it out loud as if to test out how the name rolled off his tongue. Lance opened his mouth but shut it quickly because he thought saying 'Pretty name.' would probably make it weird. 

"You know who would love this? My sister." Lance said without thinking. "She's 15 and she's practicing to be an artist too one day. Last time I saw her she was painting huge ass flowers in her bedroom walls. Ma almost killed her when she found out." He laughed at himself as a twinge of homesick nostalgia crossed his heart. 

"You mind if I take a picture of it? To send it to her, I mean." Lance asked as he took out his phone and glanced at Keith. 

"Sure, go ahead. Send her the best of luck from my part. It's tough out there." Keith smiled to the ground. Keith responded shortly after. Lance took a picture of the painting and stood with his face to his phone as he sent it to his sister. As that happened, Keith asked "So you have siblings?" 

"Yea I do! Two older, three younger." Lance answered with a smile. 

"Jesus I couldn't even deal with the one." Said Keith softly "No offense." He added immediately after. 

"None taken my man. Besides, Shiro couldn't been that bad." Lance laughed. 

Keith raised an eyebrow. "He once locked me in a trunk in the attic for almost a whole day." 

"Child's play. My brother locked me in the trunk of a car and it took them HOURS to realize I was there. Thank god they stopped for gas." 

"Shiro's girl friends in middle school used to put makeup on me and curl my hair." 

Lance smiled at the picture in his head of a small Kieth with a sour face scowling at a bunch of 12-year-old girls. "I had to dress in full drag for my whole family on Christmas when I was 11." 

"The hell?" 

"I had to play the girl from 'The Nutcracker'." 

"I once played a cloud in a school play. No lines no nothing. Just a cloud." 

"So you just stood there?"

"I had to stand on a chair." He explained. 

"I'm gonna ask Shiro if he has a picture of that." Lance said and once again thought of the first image that appeared in his head of a, once again, small and angry Keith frowning for the camera. 

"I will kill you before you do that." 

Lance laughed again. He put a pensive face. "Let's see...what more embarrassing bullshit can I say." Lance snapped his fingers. "Before that you have to tell me Shiro's embarrassing stories first." 

"I already have a blackmail list ready on my phone." Keith grinned and went to his back pocket and slipped out his phone and began scrolling. But before he could read out the first entry a customer had opened the door and strolled in. Keith said a soft and quick "I'll tell you later." Before attending the customer. 

Lance returned to his seat and opened his laptop once again and began typing. He felt refreshed and happy once again after the break. He had finished his work in no time yet people kept pouring into the pub so Keith hadn't had a single break. Lance would feel a little tug in his chest when Keith would rush past the bar without giving him a second glance. He had recently found out that he enjoyed talking to Keith when he wasn't yelling death threats at him. He often felt giddy when he would make Keith laugh or stare at him in contemplation when he would say some stupid joke. He enjoyed his eyes when they looked directly at Lance's and the small but definite dimples in Keith's cheek he was self conscious about, and tries constantly to cover his mouth when he smiles. Lance suddenly was hit hard with tiredness and immediately regretted not sleeping well the last few days. He felt like he collapsed on his laptop. 

Lance came around to the feeling of someone poking him and the sound of the door closing behind him. Through sleep-muddled ears he heard Keith's voice behind him as well "Lance? Lance! Wake up!" 

He opened his eyes to Keith's face being extremely close to his. Through grogginess and back pain from the position he was sleeping he sat up and stretched "I'm up!" He said through a yawn. He looked back at Keith who looked just as tired as him. Keith yawned as well. "You ok?" 

"Yea yea I am. I'm just-" Lance looked at the time in his laptop's clock and his heart jumpstarted. It was pitch dark outside and too late to catch a train home. In fact, the last train passed nearly and hour ago. "Fuck! Shit I better leave." He quickly gathered his things. 

"Why bother. You already missed the train." Said Keith lazily. 

"Thanks for reminding me asshole." He spat. 

"Jeez I was gonna offer a ride but guess not." Keith put his hands up and went back to cleaning tables. 

Lance paused and looked at Keith intently, almost dropping his backpack. "R-Really? You'd do that?" 

"Well I can't leave you stranded here and I know you have class tomorrow. And I'm not a dick" he turned his face around and sharpened his gaze towards Lance "unlike some people I know “Lance stared at the ground and didn't dare to return a glance. He heard the door opening before a hesitant silence. "You coming?" he said. 

Outside in the chilly wind, Lance gripped his backpack and looked at Keith searching for his keys inside his jacket's pockets on the sidewalk beside his glimmering black and red bike. The lamppost above them poured a dim yellowish light upon Kieth and the light daily bounced off his dark hair. A calm beautiful sight. "Sorry, for being a douche back there." 

Keith lifted his head "Are you apologizing for this one time or for being a douche in general?" He pulled his lips into a small taut smile. Lance's eyes locked in on this once in a lifetime opportunity. Not even the bar lights made Keith's face light up. The keys jingled as they were pulled from the pocket and Kieth held them up to Lance. "C'mon." He tossed the only helmet to Lance. 

He put the helmet over his head. "What about you?" 

"Don't worry about me just put it on." They both straddled the seat before Keith turned on the engines with a loud bang. "Just hold on tight." 

"This isn't gonna kill me, right?!" Lance yelled into his ear over the song of the engine revving up. Lance could feel Keith's face pulling into a smirk. "Let's hope not!" He sped off down the street so fast Lance almost slipped off the seat. "I said hold on tight!" 

"S-Shut up!" He tried grabbing his waist tighter but inside his helmet his burning face was telling him not to. He swore he could feel some abs beneath his thin shirt. Eventually he lowered his head into Keith's shoulder. Even through the helmet's glass he could lightly feel Keith's long hair brushing against it thanks to the rushing wind in both sides. A slow stop in front of a red light opened the door for silence. "Easily scared?" Keith chuckled and turned his head towards Lance, to which he answered with "Fuck you." Keith let out a lighthearted laugh just as the bike sped up again at the sight of the green light. Lance couldn't hear it but he was close enough to his back and wrapped tight enough around his waist he could feel it. 

Reluctantly, Lance lifted his head and contemplated at the windows and lampposts who rushed past them. He was suddenly in the moment and actually enjoying it. Lance felt more alive than whatever he has felt like for the entire past two weeks. His body contracted to let out a few raspy chuckles out of his hurting throat. He felt like standing on the bike 'Titanic-style' (The thought of Keith behind him, holding him while doing so brushed his mind.) and waving his hands in the air and whooping into the night. He felt Keith could hear him when he cranked up the velocity. The bike now screamed as much as Lance's adrenaline pumped heart did. For just a single moment he forgot all of his problems placing burdens on his shoulders. The lack of sleep, stressful finals, his yearning to be with his family, the anxiety behind his left hand. He slightly felt saddened when the streets he knew were near where he lived came into view. Slightly, Keith went slowing down in front of the same building where he stopped to drop Lance off several weeks ago. 

"Thanks again." Said Lance after he carefully got off the bike. "No prob." Keith said back as he put his bike into gear once again. He told Lance a short "See ya." before speeding off into the night once again. 

Turning around, Lance jumped two steps at a time into his apartment, heart still bumping from the ride and something else that didn't cross his mind then. 

__________________________

Lance's eyes sagged and threatened to close in the middle of a lecture. He silently thanked the universe when the phrase 'You can go now.' caused him and the rest of the crowded classroom to storm off into the exits. Amongst the crowd, Hunk's voice stood out to Lance's ear. 

"Lance! Hold up!" Lance's energy drained body turned around and tried his best to not to worry his best friend. "What is it?" He answered. They walked together through campus. 

"Guess who's going to The Lions this Saturday for Latin Night?" Hunk's grin widened. "Latin Night?" Lance murmured and he couldn't deny that that had piqued his interest. "Didn't know you were such a party guy Hunk!" 

"I'm not but I know you are. Also you've been looking high key depressed these days. Shay told me about it the other day and I figured I might as well tell you." 

Lance sighed. "Oh my god Hunk I'd love to go but Mr. Gordon has been biting my ass and still holding a grunge since I misspelled 'chromosome' this September." He paused. "And who's this 'Shay' I'm only hearing until now?" He crossed his arms and grinned at Hunk. 

"Oh you're gonna love her she works the tables on weekends. You've seen her right?" 

"Don't recall." He shook his head. "I barely go on weekends." 

"Wait so all those times you've told me you went to the bar you've actually gone on weekdays?" Hunk looked at Lance with a perplexed look. "Who the hell even goes to drink every weekday?" 

Lance scoffed "Well I do. And everybody else on 'Cheers!'" 

Hunk walked in thought for a while until the answer hit him in the face. "It's Keith right?" 

"What about him?" He answered quickly, drawing suspicion to himself. His blood rushed in anticipation at the mere sound of his name. 

"The reason you keep going." 

"Well I like pissing him off and he sometimes gives me free drinks so I can shut up." 

"My god. Lance, you are blind." 

"About what?" 

"Never mind. You think you can go this Saturday? Please Lance for me?" 

Lance furrowed his brow, still thinking what to say. "Keith is probably gonna be there." Now that did pique Lance's interest more than it should have. Dangerously so. Out of all his friends he knew Hunk the longest. Hunk knew Lance better than he knew himself and because of that he had identified many things of his liking thanks to Hunk. Until now Lance knew that he is good with animals and kids, genuinely likes fishing, and would stay up all night if it meant missing out a meteor shower in the night sky. He also knew thanks to Hunk that he didn't have what people referred to as 'gender preferences' with their soulmate. As a kid, Lance had many times seen on tv people denying to be with their fated soulmate just because they were the gender they didn't expect and he would ask his parents about it and being answered with a vague 'You're still too young to understand.' Hunk knew this very well but most importantly knew how Lance acted when he started to like someone. 

"I'll think about it." He finished and furrowed his eyebrows and pouted. 

"That means you're definitely going. God why didn't I mention him sooner. I have to go now." Hunk walked off to his next lecture, leaving Lance stranded in the middle of the hallway. 

 

_______________________ 

 

Lance could see the strobe lights and hear the loud music from across the street. Inside were plenty or regulars and people dressed like they were going to a nightclub. The bar's audio blasted different types of Latin music as he was suddenly teleported back to Saturday mornings with his mother when she would turn on her small radio while shouting at his siblings to help clean the house. Good times. 

Lance let out a laugh and spotted Hunk and Pidge across the bar, sitting on their usual spot. "You made it!" Hunk called his back a little to hard for comfort, sending him tumbling onto his chair. "This is Shay." He gestured toward a tall woman with a kind face, who Lance observed also hid her symbol under a glove. Behind her, he could pick up a familiar slim shadow. "Unexpected seeing you here." Said Keith behind his back.

"Likewise." he replied with a sneer. 

"Alright tone down the flirting all of you." Pidge eyed all four people in front of her. "Matt, pass me a beer." To that, Matt threw her a look that completely said 'Fuck you.' 

The music behind them picked up pace and Lance began to drum his hands to the beat on the counter. "You gonna dance tonight?" Hunk asked him. 

"Not now bud. I'm not drunk enough." Keith now passed in front of him letting behind two beers for the both. At first sight he spotted Keith's shadows beneath his eyes and on edge nature. He was constantly running from corner to corner of the pub and didn't seem to catch a breath in between, even with all the extra help around. And with all his black clothing, he could barely make out the shadows apart from Keith except when the stray multicolored lights hit him on the face. 

Soon enough one bottle became two; and two became four and so forth between Lance's drunken half assed Spanish singing. Lance headed towards the clearing of chairs in the middle of the pub where the strobe lights hit and where everyone danced the night; dragging Hunk and reluctant Pidge into the pit. He stood between the both of them as a simple salsa song came on and tried to teach them the basic steps. Right foot in front; back; left foot back; repeat. Simple enough, he's been dancing it all his life. Lance was a very good salsa dancer because it all came very much naturally to him. But the foreign steps made his friends back down. 

"Not everyone has the gift of quick feet and a gracious body." He thought out loud and then sneered at Pidge. 

"Asshole." said Pidge and punched Lance's arm but to no effect because of her small hands and slightly drunken state. She turned away back to her chair along with Hunk, leaving Lance stranded on the dancefloor. 

'Traitors.' He thought. 'No worries, I'll get them back by dancing like a god.' 

Familiar salsa beats began once again and his blood pumped and legs moved by their own, so as everyone else's. He needed something to get the attention of everyone else. To stun them. To amaze them. He was a good dancer on his own but his skills shone through better when he danced with a pair. Too shy to ask a girl to dance with him, he turned to the next best thing. 

Keith stood laid against the wall watching the show in front of him and with a big grin on his face, Lance shimmied his way to the wall and grabbed his arm and pulled him into the dancefloor. Keith tried to pull away from Lance while saying simple excuses like "I don't dance." (Even though it was true.) But it was already too late for Keith's salvation since they were already in the middle of the dancefloor. Paces away, Lance could hear Pidge almost choking on her drink. 

"Don't worry I'll teach you." Lance said before gently holding Keith's hands in his. He paused and relished the moment when Keith's hands adjusted themselves in Lance's hands. He squeezed them tighter in response. 

"I'll pace backwards, you go forward." He did and softly chanted directions so only Keith could hear and follow 'Left, right, left'. Keith was reluctant but followed through even though he knew he should've been working. Absentmindedly, Lance stroked Keith's fingers with his thumb. He opened his mouth again "Now you go backwards and do the same thing I did. Good; now move your ass to the beat." 

Keith's eyes opened like saucers and his brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"   
"Keith, salsa was made for two things: Fun and flirting. And you are doing neither." He explained. Although he slurred. "It's time to step it up a notch!" 

He demonstrated by moving his hips while doing over the steps he taught Keith. "You see?" Oh Keith did see alright. It was up to Lance to lift his face and decide if he wanted to see Keith's face dusted with pink blush. He instead kept low with his eyes to his steps. 

The song came picking up pace and Lance decided to improvise. He twirled Keith and before he could've said anything about it he twirled him again. By now most of the spectator's eyes were on him, them. Keith's lips were pulled into a small smile as he looked at the ground, a competitive glint in his eyes. He started to get in gear and moved his arms to the beat with more motivation. He dominated the steps already and just enough so he could go faster than Lance. "You think you can outdance me?" Lance said and earned himself a smirk from his dance partner. 

"Well let me tell you a secret before you do." Lance squeezed Keith's hands who were still on his hand and craned his head next to his ear, whispering hoarsely and somewhat raspy after shouting over the music "You can't. Not in a million years, babe." 

"Is that a challenge?" He replied, Lance could swear there was fire in his eyes. 

"Depends. If you can handle the consequences." Lance momentarily lifts his eyes to the crown behind Keith. "Wait a minute! What are you two doing here?! Get off the dancefloor; me and Keith own it!" 

Shiro and Allura were dancing across the floor in fabulously placed steps. "Oh yea? Well I just bought it!" Shiro laughed and Allura laughed into his chest. The couple gingerly and flawlessly moved in closer to them. A clearing was now made for the two pairs as they knew what would be soon to happen. Lance tore his eyes off them and looked directly at Keith, he grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"Keith, we gotta beat them. I'm gonna pull some crazy stunts so trust me and just go with it. You ready?" 

He nodded and looked at his brother. "Let's do it." 

The song picked up pace as it entered it culmination rhythms and both couples moved to it as if it meant the world to them. Shiro and Allura were sultry and enticing. The fiancés pressed together and flaming. But with Lance's lifelong expertise and Keith' daringness and eagerness to win over his brother, the pair rapidly became the crowd favorite. Lance took the chance and pushed Keith while still holding one hand, which made him spring back spinning into Lance's arms. Keith's back to his chest. He pushed Keith away into their last position and unexpectedly Keith twirled Lance and to that the crowd went wild. They both finished off with flashy poses towards the crowd. 

Keith was panting and Lance's chest expanded with pride. Behind them, Shiro went and clapped Keith's shoulder hard and telling him to go to work. He obliged and soon Lance was back at the bar. "Did you two see that?!" He raised his arms. 

"You finally had your 5 minutes of fame Lance." Hunk cheered. 

"It was more like 2 or 3 minutes at least." Said Pidge beside him. 

"You two could've shared the moment with me but since you bailed on me." 

"Don't worry Lance. You had your own different 5 minutes with Keith just now." Pidge smirked and pulled up her drink. 

"Shut it munchkin." He chided. 

Lance visited the dancefloor several times after that and not leaving without having at least a handful of applause at the end of each song. His mind was slightly clouded by the alcohol and didn't think straight when he would enter a group of girls and asking them to dance, being horribly rejected each time.   
Lance heard a crash and the sound of glass breaking all over the hardwood floor. He turned around and saw they it originated from around Keith, most likely because he crashed into a large man in front of him whose face was contorted in anger at Keith who rushed around the pub looking for a broom. He bumped into Shiro who gave him a concerned and worried look and told him words into his ear over the loud and bass loaded music. Keith rubbed his eyes and headed towards the staff room. 

Without thought, Lance slipped from his conversation with his friends unnoticed and reluctantly walked down the corridor at the back, past Keith's painting. He pushed through the door into the surprisingly freezing cold room and heard Keith's sleep ridden voice saying "No costumers here out back." He stopped and turned around "Oh it's just you Lance." 

He was crouching down at the small fridge and grabbed a water bottle from it. "Saw what happened out there. You ok?" Lance asked. Even this room wasn't safe from the vibrations of the loud music outside. 

He looked down at his gloved hands "I'm ok I guess. No glass." He showed his palms at him. Lance could see that his hands had remnants of dried paint. Blue and green to be precise. 

"You look like shit." Being drunk for Lance also meant a filter-less mouth, as Keith already knew from experience. 

"I know that already." In the bright white staff room lights Keith had bags under his eyes, unwashed hair, and dried chapped lips. "Shiro told me to take a breather back here. Little does he fucking know I'm gonna crash in that corner over there." He looked at Lance but didn't expect him to answer, especially in his drunken state. Keith took a swing at the water bottle and walked over to a corner and slid down until he laid completely on the ground. "Turn the lights off on your way out please." And then shut his eyes. 

He did as he was told but stopped on the way out. He suspected Keith was out cold by the way his eyes looked unmoving and the way his voice sounded had heavy and tired. He looked behind him at his silhouette on the floor. He entered once again and took off his jacket, laying it on top of Keith, who shuffled happily in the newly acquired heat. 

"Get your rest sleeping beauty." He murmured very softly. He immediately cringed inwardly right after but shrugged it off at the sound of Keith's small snores. He silently and softly left the room. 

The night dwindled down eventually hours later. People kept leaving happily or looking for another bar to stay the night. Leaving behind handful tips to the ever so happy staff. Coran had to walk with his arm around Allura's shoulder because he looked and felt like he was going to collapse any minute. Matt was almost laying across the bar while attempting to clean it. Lance and his friends were the last to leave. Walking down the street towards Hunk's car parked over a block away Lance heard the door opening and a shuffle of running feet towards him. Before he could turn around he felt a finger tapping his shoulder from behind. He stopped and turned around. "You forgot your jacket." It was a more rested Keith handing him his jacket in a neatly folded a presentable way. "Thanks, by the way." He shrugged. 

Lance chucked "Its fine man." He took it out from his hands, fingers brushing lightly and almost magically. But Lance couldn't control his actions and kept his hands on Keith’s. Keith furrowed his brow but didn't back away, instead he slightly shuffled closer. He was indecisive between looking at Lance's face and his own hands being subtly held by his. Lance felt the back of his head not wanting to let go of Keith, even if it meant barely holding him from his pinky finger. One of the many lamplights stood behind Keith, engulfing him in light which made Keith's light gray and indigo eyes shine even in the late-night darkness. They both smiled and felt warm even in the chilling and rapidly lowering temperature. 

"Keith! Is that you?!" Shiro' s voice resonated through the air up to Keith's ears, making him jump. "Fuck." He said automatically 

"You're in trouble~" Lance said singsongy, like a child and pointed at him like it wasn't his fault. Keith scoffed and turned around running. His running made Lance laugh. Behind him Hunk and Pidge were looking intently, especially Pidge who had already thinking and smiling. 

"So that's where you went out of nowhere!" She cackled. "Shit Lance, you're quick to act." He ignored her but she kept pestering him about it all throughout the way home. There he sat in the back seat as usual, clutching the folded and slightly wrinkly jacket, too lazy to put it on. He noticed that in the short time Keith had it, it already started smelling like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok things I wanted to clear up  
> 1\. Hunk and Pidge have soulmate symbols of their own, but they both cover it up like Keith. (Even tho I fully support the headcanon that Pidge is asexual)   
> 2\. Bi Lance is real as hell.  
>  Thats all.   
> Feel free to comment because all your feedback legit makes me cry.


	5. Chapter 5

The following week was almost nonexistent and a breeze for The Lion's staff. Finals were doubling down the student clientele, who were 60% of their income. One of them, of course, was Lance. The regular at the pub was most likely to be seen in his shabby apartment, doubled down on his work; or on his college campus, speed walking towards its library. His aura reeked of stress and energy drinks, as much as anyone else's. He rarely used his cell phone in the week unless if it was to check what time it was. His mind was boggled with a one million item checklist he had to do before finally and restlessly going to sleep. Except that he couldn't. 

He curled himself on his bed with his eyes awake as ever as he thought about things that hadn't come into his mind during the day. He knew that he would find the rest he desired once he got on board a plane towards his hometown. He longed his sibling's bickering and his mother's smile and his father' pats on his back. He wanted to go back to the big house on the middle of the suburbs and eat all of his grandmother's cooking for the holidays and play video games with his smallest brother. But what he desperately desired was to take his older brother's old truck to the beach and surf, even if it was still winter. 

Lance knew the dreaded time of finals was still upon him and he decided to go through it with no slip ups. He punched in a minimum of five alarms so that he could get up the next day. He did so every day of the week. Followed by taking the train while he stacked up heavy (and very expensive) textbooks on his lap and tried to cram in his long-term memory like the detailed steps of the formation of a star. He would get out with a spring on his step and march to his classroom and even still trying to avoid clashing into people as he kept his head buried in his book. And in the afternoon, he would open the next book on his list and prepare for the next day. He did the cycle five times until the most anticipated day of the year came; Friday. 

The second anyone would write the last letter to a question or circle the last answer they would stand up and deliver the papers straight to the professor's desk and speed walk their way towards the exit door. Lance did so as well. When he did he felt his cloud of stress evaporate into nothingness and his eyes open so much in glee that he was surprised they didn't fall out of his head. He met with Hunk and Pidge in the corridor, who had finished way earlier than he did.

"We're done!" He yelled and outstretched his arms almost out of their sockets. "You should've seen Gordon's face when I turned it in! He's like 'I can't believe it! This idiot can't be done!'" He mimicked his professor's thick accent and hunched posture. 

"Even I'd be surprised" Pidge sighed and rubbed her eyes under her round glasses. 

"This is a cause for celebration! Let's go out to The Lions like last time." 

After a pause the both looked at each other nervously "Sorry Lance I don't think I can, after five all-nighters I'm just gonna crash and I probably won't wake up till New Year’s." Said Pidge. 

"Me too Lance, I have a date with Shay." Hunk added

"C’mon! You two are gonna ditch me again?" He said with a frown developing on his face. 

Pidge hitched up her glasses higher up her nose. "It's not ditching since we gave completely reasonable-" 

Lance grabbed her by her shoulder and shook her "You two are leaving me, aren't you?!" He said and mocked a wail. "Come on! I'll be leaving on Christmas Eve so this is literally the last time we can hang out before Pidge goes to that techie Comicon-" "For the last time it's the Grand unveiling conference for the-" "Shut it tech nerd!"

Hunk still was determined to reason with Lance "Sorry but Shay and I have planned it out since last week. Maybe we can go-" 

"You know what? Forget it. I wanted to go today and spend the night with my best buddies but since you all have such important things to do!" Lance shouted at first half-jokingly but came out harsher than he ever wanted. He winced at his own words once they slipped off his mouth. 

"Oh for Christ's sake Lance! If you want to go so bad and stick your tongue down Keith's throat we wouldn't care!" Pidge finally burst. Lance wanted to say something back but the words neither reached his head nor his mouth. In this fight or flight situation Lance thought he had done enough fighting, making flight his lasting option. He just inhaled and back led away from the two, walking sourly throughout the remaining bit of corridor. 

He got on the train as soon as it stopped it's tracks in front of him. He stomped in and sat down at the first seat his saw and tried to control his heartbeat. He stared out the window in front of him but all he could see was his reflection staring back. If he was a stranger to himself, the first thing he would notice was the red veins in his eyes deepening and in the area around them. He tried to suppress an angry whine but jammed his hand in his mouth. He couldn't quite put a finger on what his heart was throbbing on. Either the anger and slight sadness he felt when he shouted at his friends or the image Pidge had given him. 

______________________

 

It appeared that every college student had the same idea that Lance had that night. He wouldn't even have had his usual seat if Allura didn't have her purse in it, which she removed once she saw Lance.

The pub was so packed full of party hungry students he was surprised he didn't accidentally step into a frat house. But he pushed his slight claustrophobia away when Keith appeared in front of him, his lips moving and saying, almost monotonous "Anything you want?" Until his eyes reached up and caught Lance's eyes. "Long time no see." Keith scoffed but stopped, probably remembering the last time they saw each other. 

On the other hand, Lance only had a weightless memory about the last minutes of his stay last week. The last thing he remembered was pulling Keith into the dancefloor and holding his hands. He shuffled in his stool, debating to himself if it was real or just a figment of his drunk imagination. "I'll have the usual." He said as casually as possible. 

Keith frowned and pulled a puzzled look “What the fuck is the usual?" He gestured towards the multiple bottles of different shapes and sizes behind him. "That shitty beer you always order?" He asked

"Yea yea that one." He waved his hand towards Keith. He grabbed it and chugged at it and watched Keith fly out to take a handful of bottles to a table far from the bar. 

He looked towards Allura right in next to him. Lance first met her the year prior when he and his friends were going through town hunting down materials for their Halloween costume. They stumbled into the art and crafts store that Allura's dad owned called 'Altea Craft'. In there Lance accidentally knocked down some expensive items and spent the whole afternoon trying to clean it up and didn't leave without hitting on Allura at least once. 

She perked up around the scene and asked Shiro, who was in front of her "Where's Matt?" To which he replied "Out sick. He ate some stale peanuts before his shift started." And coincidentally he pulled some fresh peanuts into a container in font of Allura, she eyed them carefully. 

"Well aren't you a bit short-staffed today? Especially with these wild and savage students." She paused and turned towards Lance "No offense Lance."

"Slightly taken." He replied and took a sip of his beer. 

"Shiro if you need any help I'm right here willing to help. I'm sure Lance is as well." 

Lance almost choked on his beer. He chuckled. "No can do princess. I'm just as swamped as them. I can't even lift a finger without-" he was stopped by Allura's foot stomping his own under the countertop. 'Why did she had to have heels on?' He thought as he inhaled and tried to not yelp. 

A sound of bustling feet moved behind him and without a warning Keith's head popped up next to him and dangerously close to his ear and said "Sounds to me like someone is scared." He felt his panting breath on his shoulder as he pulled away and went back to work. Leaving a tingling sensation of goosebumps and a warm face. Lance looked at him go and thought he looked exhausted. (But when does he not?)

Shiro looked worried, (But again, when does he not?) He looked at both Lance and Allura simultaneously. Allura had grabbed Shiro's left hand and pressed it against hers, making it shimmer while she looked at Shiro with big puppy eyes. 

~

"When mates adjoin their symbols, the ink distorts and pulsate across the skin in a fluid manner. Like so, mates who truly love each other not only make each other's ink dance with sensuality only they can explain, but also make the ink dazzle and shine in contrast to the seemingly dull outside world."   
-Excerpt from S. Robertson's 'The science behind love.'

~ 

Shiro sighed but reluctantly, silently agreed "If you two really want to help you should go grab some aprons. That's all I'm saying."

She grabbed Lance by his wrist and tugged him to the staffroom while he struggled to let go. "Oh stop whining, it'll be fun!" 

"That's what you say, I haven't slept in weeks." He grunted as a joke, but was actually a legitimate statement.

He suited himself in the same plain black apron he has seen Shiro and Keith in a million times. He went outside and the first thing he was met with was Keith handing him 4 large and tall glasses of beer "Give these to table 3." Keith ordered and walked away but turned around quickly when he remembered Lance has no idea which table is table 3. He sighed and pulled him into a whisper "Those douchebag looking frat boys in the corner." He pointed with his finger and Lance strode off after guffawing at his description of the college students. 

As he moved through the crowd he felt like people were watching him and internally laughing. He knew it was only a feeling, but not the truth. He was on a high in his daily life at the moment and he didn't let himself be thrown off it by some college kids. He propped the drinks in front of the frat boys as they gave him the nasty eye but Lance moved away from them just a smirk he made sure they could see. 

He was dying to try to manhandle the bar area Keith always hogged to himself but before that could happen Keith handed him more drinks from over the counter and pointed him where to get them to. "Table 5 over there." 

He looked over and looked back at Keith with a raised eyebrow, whispering "You mean those chicks with pancake face and - oh no honey that’s not how winged eyeliner is supposed to look like." Keith stifled a laugh next to him. Every time he got back to the bar Keith would have even more drinks to deliver and every time he'd nickname them. 

"Table 6." "Fedora Jesus and hairy lumberjack, gotcha."

"Table 2." "21 jump street rejects over there?" 

"Table 8." "Is that kid wearing a Naruto headband?" Lance squinted. By now Keith was making himself stop laughing to himself every time he made eye contact with anyone Lance named. 

"Keeeeiith! Can I finally go up on the bar?" Lance practically begged him at the entrance of the bar. 

"And let a newbie like you scratch my bar? Don't think so." He said and rubbed he glossy wood and looked back at Lance with a smirk. He pulled out two more bottles and handed them to Lance. "21 jump street again." With a grunt and mocking look of malice, he grabbed the bottles. 

From all the way over table 2, he heard a conversation going on between Keith and a customer. 

"Hey beautiful! What's the cost 'round here?" Hesitantly, Keith turned around, suddenly thinking if he was the one being called by the thick accent. Keith pointed to the big blackboards above his head with the drink's costs. "I ain't talkin' 'bout the booze." He said angrily. 

Lance turned around to see the commotion. The one who did most of the talking was sitting in the seat Lance usually sat in. Lance's seat. In there sat a middle-aged man with a large beard and wrinkly skin. The thought of that man trying talking to Keith gave him goosebumps. The man continued. "How much for that sweet ass you got there?" 

Taking reference to the time he spent in the bar, Lance knew Keith could turn from 'Pretty chill' to 'Demon anger' in a snap and relatively quickly as well. Keith, now trying to swallow his rage, got closer to the problematic customer and pulled out his trusty bartender fake smile and said "Pardon?" Even with two syllables Lance could easily tell he was going to attack the old man anytime. 

"I can tell you're bored here sugar. How'd you like to tell your boss to fuck off and come down with me?" 

"I find that horrifyingly repulsive." Keith was edging real close to finally punch the man. 

"Oh come on sweetie don't be like that-" the man stopped as soon as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Lance looked down at the man and made up the words along the way "Harassing the staff isn't tolerable. I'm gonna ask you to leave." Lance tried to look scary but not like Shiro, who grabbed the smaller man by the arm and escorted him out the door. He looked over at Keith who was taking a deep breath and went back to work after mouthing Lance a small "Thank you." 

The rest of the night was majorly uneventful. Before closing time, everyone else had gone off to look for another party. Leaving the staff exhausted. Allura hid in the staff room so she can sleep and they only found her once everyone left. Shiro picked her up effortlessly in his arms and looked towards the two boys. "Can I trust you two to clean up and close up without killing each other?" 

"Probably." Lance replied. 

"Maybe." Keith replied as well. 

"I'm trusting those odds. Goodbye." He waved off and walked into the night. Quickly, the two made cleaning tables a race for who cleaned the most. "Easy, who'd you think cleans every day?" Keith taunted. 

"Excuse me, but you're facing Lance McLain, the only member of the family who could wash the dishes, mop the floor, and dust grandma's China collection in under 30 minutes!" 

"I call bullshit!" Keith pointed at Lance. 

"I call bullshit on your bullshit!" He pointed back. 

In the end they fought on who cleaned the most. Keith stood behind the bar as always and pulled out a bottle from behind him along with two crystal clear shot glasses. "Want a drink?" 

"Oh god yes." Lance exhaled. "Shit man how do you do this every night?" He walked around and entered the bar area and stood next to Keith. 

"This was an easy day." He begins pouring little drops into the shot glasses. "Most of the times there's an asshole that always sits there-" he pointed to Lance's chair "and doesn't even order shit most of the time. Just comes here and steals Wi-Fi." He handed him his shot. 

"This 'asshole' you say? He sounds like a dashing gentleman. I'd love to meet him." Lance said as he hoisted his glass in the air and it lightly clashed with Keith's in a toast before quickly slipping them down. They swallowed and coughed a little yet kept looking at each other and laughing. They both sighed as the burning sensation left their throats. Keith doubled down and sat in the floor, resting his head on the back of the counter to which Lance's surprise was riddled with gadgets. As Lance slid down to sit down on the wall opposing Keith, he started "Thanks again, for that weirdo back there." 

"No worries." Said Lance as settled himself next Keith's extended legs. "You looked like you were about to blow a fuse." 

"Believe me, I was." He smiled

"Why did he even think you were a - uh that." Lance asked. 

Keith stared at him quizzically and then realized "Don't ask me! I swear I'm not one!" And put his hands up in defense. 

Lance arched an eyebrow and did a stupid smirk. "I swear!" Keith repeated and laughed. He grabbed the bottle again and trickled more clear liquid I to his shot glass "Want another?" He asked

"You do know you have to give me a ride now. I don't want to die having madman Keith on the wheel." Lance responded "But sure anyways, hit me." He handed him his glass and they toasted again and drank. They coughed from the fiery drink. All the lights were turned off except the staff room's lights feet away. The only thing they could see was the dark and only small bits of each other's faces. They both sighed. 

"Hey Lance?"

"Hm?" 

"Can I ask you a something?" 

"Aren't you doing that right now?" He said with a chuckle. Keith kicked him and was followed by a yelp. 

"Ok so." He paused "Matt told me the other day you only come by on weekdays because he's barely seen you. Why's that?" He said it casually, like an average question to ask someone. 

Lance stopped breathing for a second. He couldn't answer because he didn't know the answer himself. He once thought of going on a Saturday but felt discomfort when he realized he'd sit there alone with no one to talk to. Shiro would be working and he didn't know Matt that well. He scratched his head while he felt Keith's eyes on his. 

Keith continued "I thought you were like Lance-party-pants-McLain or some shit."

That made Lance laugh since he hasn't gone to a party since Prom "Do I look like that?" 

"You kinda have that vibe, y'know?" He moved his hands through the air. 

"I don't know I-" he sighed and refreshed himself " I like to talk to you I guess."

"Oh. You guess so?" Keith sounded stunned. 

"I know so."

"Are you shitting me?" He sounded skeptical and defensive. 

"Why would I shit on you about this?" He replied quickly. 

Keith didn't speak for a while, which made Lance worry and look around to see where was the emergency exit in case he needed it. 

"Why though? All I am is mean to you." Said Keith with a small voice while he looked at the floor. 

"Not always, at least you tolerate me. I also guess you're easy to talk to too. Well not now because you're asking some really deep shit." He fumbled with his fingers, a thing he developed in high school when it came to awkward silence. 

"Strangely, I feel the same...Except that last part no that's all you." 

"Really?" Lance's eyes lit up and his voice raised a pitch higher than he wanted. 

"Yea. I feel like I don't have to think so much about what I say and when I do say what comes out of my mouth you're so, chill with it." He shifted in his spot on the floor and relaxed his shoulder as he talked and talked without thinking. 

Lance scoffed and tried to look at Keith through the darkness "Are you talking about that thing you have with me when you're always calling me an asshole because it's starting to hurt." He saw Keith's teeth slightly reflecting the light far away. 

"Yea sorry about that." Without saying anything else he grabbed the bottle once again and poured it into his glass and Lance's; Wordlessly they toasted and let the sound of clunking glass fill the room. 

____________________

Lance trotted into the airport's chilly air filled with anticipation and excitement. Heaving his duffel bag higher up his shoulder, he joined one of the hundreds of long Christmas eve lines. Everyone around him looked exhausted from the large family with small kids making a ruckus to the elderly couple that stood complaining about the slow service. He shivered in his winter coat and zipped it up to his neck. 

The afternoon behind him looked over the town threatening to let snow fall any second. Back in his hometown it rarely snowed during winter and it stayed roughly warm throughout the year. Even the beach would bring him warm rays even on the coldest of seasons. Homesickness made a way to his heart in the way of a heavy sensation on his chest. He reassured himself that in less than an hour he would be on the plane, relaxed and most likely sleeping. He shuffled in the line and stared at his feet until a commotion formed at the front of the line. 

Families were piling onto the front desk, screaming feverishly. He looked to the boards up high with all the flights. He searched the name of his beloved hometown with the word 'canceled' next to it. And so did many other flights. The board was filled to the brim with red canceled flights. Before Lance could have reacted to it the manager up front grabbed the PA and practically yelled into it. "All flights will be deemed canceled due to a snow storm heading towards us. There will be no flights until December 26th." 

Families up front and all throughout the entirety of the airport went furious. Lance couldn't believe it. All the preparations he had done were for nothing. He would miss Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas itself along with all his family’s yearly traditions. The presents he had bought for his family would be stuck here with him. The paint kit from Altea Craft for his sister, the pretty doll for the youngest sister, and the fireworks for the smallest brother weighed on his duffel bag. 

He felt his heart become heavier than his body as it fell to his feet and shattered the floor. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he turned around even though his eyes and brain were telling him to turn back. 

 

Lance plopped down his duffle bag on some random and dirty sidewalk near a convenience store and sat beside it and pulled a six pack of beers into his lap and pulled up the first one. The bottle opened with a hiss and already half gone down his throat before the lamp posts around him began to light up. He thought of notifying himself that it was his first Christmas spending it without his family. And what good was he doing with it? He was drinking his sorrows away in an unknown street in his small and crappy happy-go-lucky town. 

He drank the last drop of the bottle and threw it to a trash can in front of him, he missed and it ended up shattering into a million minute shards of piercing glass across the asphalt. The store owner probably yelled at him for doing so but Lance didn't hear it over the sound of himself sniffing and stifling more. 

A known sound of a running engine made its way down the long and straight street, the headlights making way towards Lance. The black wearing rider eased in his breaks and before Lance could recognize him the rider removed his helmet, revealing Keith's face. 

"Lance?" His smooth voice asked. "Is that you?" Keith cocked his head towards Lance. He couldn't respond using words. 

In a blink, Keith crouched down to look at Lance. He tried to shake him to get him to respond. Lance reluctantly looked over and responded "What's up?" 

Keith glanced at the six pack on his lap and raised an eyebrow. "You look like a hobo." 

"Am I a pretty hobo?" Lance friend and batted his eyes at him. 

He half expected him to insult him by calling him 'A pretty annoying hobo.' to be precise but he scoffed and avoided eye contact until he cleared his throat. "You're not doing anything now? A storm is heading here and you look pretty out of it." 

Lance only grunted in response. Keith looked like he was in a loss for words and he was constantly leaping out of his way to catch them. He moved back and stood up and looked down at Lance. 

"I'm gonna have a few drinks at my place. Wanna tag along?" Before Lance could answer he entered the store and brought out a different six pack of beer than the one Lance had in his hands. Lance had a reluctant and hesitant look in his face and Keith could tell as he started mounting and revving up to go on his bike. 

"Hold up! Hold up I'm coming." Lance brushed himself off and grabbed his duffel bag while Keith handed him his own helmet. 

"What's with the bag?" Keith asked. Lance told him about his trip and the fight that formed in the airport. "Oh. Sorry about that." He responded to it. 

"Thanks. Just as I was so hyped about making my mom cook some ropa vieja, now I'm hungry." Lance blabbered. 

"R-Ropa vieja?" Said Keith, completely butchering the Spanish pronunciation. 

"It's a Cuban dish; No need to stress yourself Keith." Lance said and patted his shoulder lightly as he mounted the bike. Keith sparked the engines to life again. 

"You're Cuban?" He raised his eyebrow at his passenger. 

"My family is. Don't ask me to talk Spanish because I only know the food, the curse words, and like 5 adjectives." 

"Fair enough." Without warning Keith started speeding down the street. Behind him he heard Lance scream "Carajó!" before grabbing Keith's waist. "Stop doing that Keith!" He yelled into his ear but all Keith could do was laugh loudly and villain-like. 

The cold air never stopped hitting their faces and bodies as eventually they felt small sprinkles of ice stick on their face. Lance looked up and around to reveal that the snow was already piling down on road ahead. Even within the cold the two had built a warmth between them involving Lance's arms’ tight grip on Keith and both of their blood rushing to their face. 

They stopped in on a foreign sidewalk and stepped into a building completely unfamiliar for Lance. They went up a seemingly endless flight of stairs. After the fifth, Lance was complaining. "How much more?" He whined. 

"About four more." 

"Hey isn't that an elevator?" Lance said as he peered into the hallway and pointed down it. 

"Out of service. The repairmen never came." Keith sounded like he was starting to pant. 

"You're killing me here Keith!" Keith looked down with and raised an amused eyebrow before quickly saying "Race you to the top." And bolted up the stairs, followed by Lance's adrenaline spiked long legs skipping steps. Their soles echoed loudly through the stairs that Keith through he was probably going have complaints filled against him the day later. 

Keith opened the door after a fight about who won ("I won!" "The fuck you didn't you cheated!") and placed the beer on a small coffee table on the left. Lance politely stepped in and looked around. The apartment was small and simple compared to his. He could instantly tell several drying paintbrushes on the kitchen counter and empty canvases on top of the fridge. "Not too bad, not too bad." Lance nodded. 

He turned into the living room and gazed out of the large window that overlooked the town. From up above he saw the countless lights from apartments like the one he was in, the train making his way up down and through town, and far away yet still there the large Christmas tree in town hall along with colorful Christmas lights on it and the buildings around it. The snow still flew down steadily from the ashen gray clouds. Behind him, Keith had taken out an old radio and stretched out its antenna towards the window, it started playing an endless playlist of soft instrumental music. 

He sat down next to Keith on his broken couch that sat lopsided a bit and grabbed the nearest bottle. The both muttered "Cheers." Before opening it and drinking down. Lance sat and rested easy and looked at the ceiling above. He could feel Keith's body warmth pierce through his jacket since they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh; but both two enveloped in the bliss of solitude in each other's company to notice. It was just them and their breath. 

In front of them, above Keith's small Tv hung a painting with a small 'K' in a corner. From what Lance could see in the darkened room it depicted a large arrangement of flowers similar to the one in the corridor back at the pub. It even had the same two flowers. Lance thought it was an earlier version of the one he knew. 

"What are you looking at?" Asked Keith and turned to where the other male's eyes were analyzing. Lance felt Keith sink into himself (most likely in embarrassment) beside him, muttering a soft "Oh. That." under his sweater's long sleeve. His eyes furrowed at the wall. 

"I- uh- painted that one a long time ago. I know it sucks." Keith sat restlessly and scratched the back of his head and sipped more at his bottle. 

Lance heard the worry in his voice and quickly reassured him. "What are you talking about!?" He shot his eyes to Keith's and softly grabbed his shoulder and tried to shake out Keith's gloom. "It’s beautiful!" 

Keith responded with a small yet insecure smile and shrugged. "If you say so."

He looked intently at Keith, trying to figure it all out like he was a mystery. He looked back at the framed painting. "Well you know what? I like it. And just like it's artist I think it's beautiful." 

Lance's brain suddenly stopped working like it just did a record scratch making him almost drop the bottle. 

Keith's eyes shot open just as the last syllable danced off his mouth. He didn't know whether to take the compliment or shrug it off as one of his other drunk mumblings. 'But he's only had two bottles he can't be this drunk...!' Lance on the other side knew Keith was silently freaking out but couldn't shake his eyes off Keith's mouth being left ever so slightly agape in surprise. 

"Oh god uh I'm sorry about that I had a lot to dri-" "Did you just say I'm beautiful?" Keith's mumble cut off Lance's rambling. 

Conscious that he was in his weird phase of drinking where he would blurt out whatever nonsense that came into his head, Lance didn't think this through enough. "Yes, I did. Congratulations Keith, you've been gifted with the pretty gene." 

A deep blush scattered through Keith's face and appeared to be both mildly confused and flattered at the same time. "T-Thanks?"

"Anytime."

Lance cursed himself in his head and prayed Keith didn't see that he had broken into a cold sweat. He managed to smoothed it out in expense if his pride but felt he did a good job when he saw Keith, a normally chill and level headed guy (at least when he wasn't mad), look flustered but accepting. They both took a big gulp at the same time. Looking back at the painting, Keith started "I was really into the whole flower language bullshit when I got off high school and that's kinda where I started." 

He shifted and moved closer to Lance and pointed towards the painting, searching for the finer details "The big ones are Cosmos Chrysanthemums and the small ones are Heathers. I read off some bogus site they're supposed to mean peacefulness and solitude." He chuckled in shame. 

"So, are these like.... emo flowers?" Lance stared at Keith and his painting and back. The look on Keith's face gave it all. 

"I can't believe you had an emo flower phase!" Lance laughed blissfully. Keith next to him covered his face with both hands and tried to make him shut up. 

"Why did I even tell you?" He screamed into his palms but still couldn't fight off the urge to laugh at himself. After Lance regained his posture and sighed to calm down he reached out to Keith who was sitting off the edge of the couch. 

"Hey man it's ok you can stop cringing now." He patted his back. He let it go and grabbed another bottle after finishing the last one and settled back to where he was, undeniably very close to Lance. 

"I'm going to regret telling you this, aren't I?" 

"Possibly." He shrugged. 

Keith elbowed him in the rib cage. Just then the wind picked up and the snow fell vigorously outside. A stray breeze reached their bodies from outside the window as they both shivered and unintentionally moved closer together. "F-Fuck, I miss the beach." Lance swung at the bottle. 

"The beach?" Said Keith in between sips. 

"Yea." He said hazily and pictured the warm sand between his toes and the chilling water bringing in behind enormous waves and seaweed he used to throw to his sisters and seashells he collected in buckets when he was smaller. The tried to remember the sun on his face and back along with the wicked sunburn he'd get hours later and the sound of his mother's voice when she scolded him for not wearing sunscreen. 

"Huh, I've never actually been to the beach before." His voiced smoothed down to a murmur only Lance could hear. Immediately Lance sprang up. "Say what!?" He yelled into Keith's ear. 

"What?!" He growled and covered his ear. 

"You. Have never! Ever!? Gone to the beach?" Lance faced him. 

Keith shrugged. "What's the big deal?"

"Big deal? I don't think you understand Keith, it's the beach!" He opened his arms around his frigid surrounding. Keith stared at him in contemplation and shook his head. Lance sunk back into the couch and rested his head so he gazed up above. 

Softly he spoke "I still can't believe it." He stopped and sighed "I promise you one day," he sipped gingerly at his almost empty bottle. "One day, I'll take you to the beach." 

Keith guffawed "Is that a promise?" He batted his eyes and feigned bashfulness. 

"I'm serious Keith." Lance tried to say seriously but his smile and cheerful laugh gave away. "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Alright then." Keith began to daze, starting to get on the alcohol high. Through half opened eyes and crooked smile he spoke. "It's a date then." 

"A date? Wow. Better not get your standards too high, 'cause it can all go to shit." 

"I doubt that."

"We'll go once the snow melts in this fucking town how 'bout that?" Lance polished his flirty grin and winked towards Keith's direction. 

"Sounds great." He calmly said. Lance was slightly disappointed that Keith talked with such a straight voice, unlike most girls Lance has had the pleasure to ask out. 

Keith looked over and stared at Lance's eyes with a serious frown. "Promise me this one thing." he held up his index finger towards Lance's nose. 

Slightly worried, he replied "What?" 

"No flowers." 

Lance started to chuckle until it snowballed into a full, belly aching laughter and Keith followed in no time after. Of all the sounds around them, the radio static, the thundering Christmas music blaring around town, the rusty heater and the leak on the kitchen sink, Lance's ears focused on Keith's joyous yet goofy drunken laugh. He didn't know how much he'd remember the next day but he prayed to how many deities there were that he'd be able to play again Keith's laugh in his mind. 

They sat on the embers of laughter together while trying to regain the calm. The silence fell over them once again. Instead of a silence that makes people flee, it was a silence that comforted the people under it and almost like a blanket, ignited relaxation. Lance's heavy and rest needing head fell to Keith's shoulder and found serenity in between his neck and left shoulder. 

His eyes flew down and practically went into slumber. It felt like only mere minutes when he felt Keith's arm wriggle under him. Thinking he accidentally spent hours crushing Keith's arm he sat up to his original pose in a snap. 

"Ah sorry to wake you." His voice sounded alarmed yet soft. 

"How long was I out?" He rubbed his eyes. 

"Like half an hour." Keith glanced at the clock on the far wall. "It's Christmas." He said and pointed at the clocks tiny thin hands marking fifteen past midnight. 

In front of them in the coffee table, the dozen bottles they started with dwindled down to almost zero. Keith brought his hand on his gloved left hand and begun to remove it due to discomfort. Lance's eyes shot open from sleep and tried to stop his heart from pumping so loud. He always thought of soul symbols a sort of form of underappreciated art. He couldn't help but stare at anyone's symbol whether it be a friend or a stranger in the streets. 

Keith threw the glove on top of the coffee table and draped his hand casually over his thigh and he caught a peek of the black ink on Keith's light skin. He somehow felt Lance's eyes on his hand as he lifted it to the straying rays of light coming in the apartment from the window. Cocking his head to the side to see it. "Like it?" 

Lance nodded his head quickly. He stared at the picture under the moonlight. It was of a smooth moon in its Waning Crescent phase with tiny star drawings fluttering and shimmering around and over it and descending together almost down to Keith's wrist. Without knowing, Lance was closing in his head in into his hand while Keith hides a small smile behind his spare hand. 

"It's" He fought back a sob that will never suffice "I-Its very pretty." He looked up to Keith and couldn't tell if the pink across his face was because of the alcohol or the fact that Lance was accidentally holding his hand gingerly in his own. Either way it was, he was smiling sincerely with a raised eyebrow and that counted as a win in Lance's book. 

"Thank you." He muttered. Keith must have also noticed the worry on Lance's face. He shuffled and with his other hand cupped the side of Lance's face, stroking his cheek lightly. He cocked his head and opened his mouth "Don't worry. I used to be like you." Unable to form more complex sentences due to the alcohol running through his bloodstream. 

"If anyone deserves to die alone, It's me." Keith continued forcefully even through the slurring. 

"You know that's not true." Lance frowned into Keith's hand. "Everyone deserves a chance to love. Whether they'd like to or not because you never know until you try." 

Keith didn't say anything else. Instead he kept his gaze his symbol as Lance scanned every detail of it. Lance knew he didn't agree with what he said when he started glowering at his own hand. His scowl slowly softened and morphed into a face of sadness as a low whimper escaped his lips. Lance looked up only to see his already reddened eyes. 

"It's so scary." He tried to wipe his accumulating tears. "How they think you're supposed to settle in with your soulmate when you just met them.

"I mean, look at Shiro, he met Allura like a year ago and they're getting fucking married." 

Lance opened his mouth but nothing came out. Keith continued.

"I have dreams too you know? Things I want to do. Things I need to get done." He stopped to catch his breath and calm down but a sob overcame him just when he opened his mouth "But I can't do that when I'm living in a white picket fence in the suburbs with 3 kids by the time I'm 25." He retracted his hands and covered his face in shame and let out a muffled sob. 

Suddenly not knowing what to do, Lance stood back and thought. Through his drunken haze, he could make out a memory. It had happened recently too. He was in his house with his mother beside him as he bawled his eyes out just like Keith was doing, but for the exact opposite reason, sobbing about how he was going to die alone and unloved by someone tied to his very soul. Just as the scenes from months ago, replayed in his head he did what his mother did at that time. Lance brought his arm around Keith's shoulders and pressed his head to his while softly shushing him. 

He expected him to back off from the embrace but instead sank deeper into it. Keith lowered his head into Lance's shoulder and cried silently on it and accidentally stained Lance's shirt with his warm tears and breath, properly hugging him. He put his hand on the back of his head and rustled and combed Keith's long hair down his neck. His body had soon gone quiet and relaxed so Lance thought he had fallen asleep. He stroked his hair once last time before shutting his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I simply google 'Cuban traditional food' ? yes. (Im sorry cuban readers)  
> I once read a headcanon that said Lance only knew basic spanish thanks to his family and as much as I love bilingual Lance I just had to give this hc a rep.
> 
> /shameless self promotion time/  
> instagram: @syremia  
> twitter: @fengariss


	6. Chapter 6

Sore muscles slowly ached just as Lance's consciousness began to drift in from deep sleep. His face, smothered in an almost foreign couch, was lifted and glancing around the room in search of the source of the scent of cooking. He pushed himself off the couch and accidentally onto the floor with a slam. Prying open his eyes once again he stared at the bright early morning light coming out the window and felt like he's been hit on his head with a frying pan. He winced and stretched his palms over his head to subdue his incoming hangover. 

Sudden bangs of loud and screeching metal reverberated throughout the entire apartment and it didn't rest well with groggy hungover Lance. He had been on the process of pulling his thoughts together to get up when he heard Keith's voice in another room, hissing in anger "Fucking heater." He heard before one final bang to the metal. 

Keith strolled into the living room with a bitter look on his face showing that he was also just as hungover as Lance. He pointed his squinting eyes towards Lance "You're up." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slid them onto his face.

Lance grunted and returned to the floor in response and only did he ever look up when a rattling pill container rolled next to his head. He looked back at Keith in the other side of the room and gave him an approving nod before plucking two pills from the bottle and swallowing them down without the aid of water. He willed the strength to lift himself up and slugged a short distance and fell onto a chair next to the shabby looking kitchen counter and let his head hit the table, making everything it held up shake. In front of him, Keith was lazily turning strips of bacon on its pan and shoving pieces of bread in a toaster. 

Keith placed a frigid water bottle in the crook of Lance's neck, making him jump in his seat. "Drink some water." He said through a yawn. 

"What's with the sunglasses?" Lance propped his head in his arms after uncapping his bottle. 

"I'm too broke for curtains." Keith explained and slid up the glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

"Got a spare pair?" He said while squinting through the incoming sunlight. 

"Not really." He shrugged and turned around to attend the sizzling strips of crispy bacon. He slid them out into a plate and placing it in front of Lance before taking out the toast and smothering it with butter. Keith then sat in front of Lance. 

"Thanks mom." Lance sneered. 

Keith burned holes into Lance's face even through the tinted sunglasses. "Fuck you." He bit on a piece of bacon. "I hate feeling hungover. Food's the best cure." 

Lance felt extremely nauseous and dizzy and in no mood to eat. But he could manage to afford a slight exception for Keith and nipped at the buttered piece of toast. "What about the eggs?" 

Keith swallowed and stared at his plate and furrowed his brow. "Forgot about that." He pouted. 

After wiping the excess grease off their hands on their pants, Keith suggested going to get coffee and Lance groggily complied and got up to get the duffel bag he left overnight. After going down the countless flights of stairs and opening the main door they immediately wished they could go back inside. Several inches of snow had draped over the sidewalks and asphalt over the night and that meant that the teeth clattering cold ravaged the town. After walking through the cold was when they realized it was Christmas and that everything was closed. Lance didn't bother looking at the snow-covered buildings and railings and instead kept his eyes glued to the snow below him before doubling over and picking up a handful of ice and shaping it into a ball. "Hey Keith!" He yelled. 

Keith, who was in front of him turned around and was instantly pummeled with a snowball right to the face that knocked off his sunglasses. "Oh you're on!" He said as he put on his game face and started gathering snow. Lance jumped and tried to run in the opposite direction but kept struggling in the mounts of snow. Keith threw a cold one to the back of Lance's head, which melted and dribbled down his neck and back, sending him yelping down the street. He then sought refuge behind an alleyway corner as did Keith too behind a mailbox. 

The fiery yet chillingly cold battle continued with pinpoint accuracy. Keith had managed to land one on the sensitive skin of Lance's neck while he shot one almost into Keith's mouth when he was panting. He had retreated into the alleyway to scoop up more snow ammo when Keith's onslaught of snow stopped as well. Lance thought it was an ideal moment for an ambush since he was reloading. He grabbed an arm full of snow and shaped it enough so he could carry it. 

He stuck low to the ground with the snow in tow as he approached the snow battered mail box. Rapidly, he reached behind it and aimed but Keith was nowhere to be seen, only his crouched imprint on the white snow. Lance did a double take to see if his eyes were still acting funny due to alcohol. 

Suddenly a horrible freezing sensation spread throughout his back as he turns around and met Keith, who had his hands full of snow and paired with a wicked grin. He took off running after dumping it all onto Lance, and without missing a beat Lance went after him. Even while running the best they could over frozen sidewalk it wasn't long until one of them tripped. Lance, who had just managed to grab Keith by the jacket, made Keith tumble down and consequently brought down Lance with him with a thud. 

On the ground, Lance fought by plastering more snow on Keith's face and he did likewise. Even when Lance had Keith pinned down to the ground by his shoulders he would grab a fistful of the wet snow next to him and shoved it into Lance's face. And when Keith eventually tried to get the upper hand Lance would try to get some snow down Keith's shirt, paralyzing him momentarily. 

Sooner or later the both had collapsed in exhaustion, lying next to each other while being covered snowflakes in the middle of a sidewalk on Christmas morning, panting yet grinning ear to ear. Keith was the first one to sit up while Lance whined. "Do I have to get up?" 

Keith shook the stray snowflakes off his jeans. "You kinda do if you don't want anyone to see you lying in a snow ditch." 

"You're right." Lance held on to Keith's hands to get up with a jump. Mindlessly, they began strolling through the empty streets. 

The town's almost creepy atmosphere set chills down Lance's spine more than the cold did. Normally there would be shops happily opening for business or people happily walking in the sidewalks without a care but now the sun was set up high and the doors stayed locked and people were nowhere to be seen. "This is so fucking weird." Lance thought aloud. 

"What is?" Said Keith beside him looking straight ahead, who had seemed to tuck his sunglasses in his jacket and looked around with his gray and somewhat indigo eyes. 

"There's no one here. This town is basically deserted." Lance explained. 

"It's Christmas dumbass.” He sighed “Everyone's either sleeping in or spending time with their family." His head was towards the stacked and cramped buildings with hundreds of snow powdered balconies that still laid asleep. 

"Is that what you're doing later?" Lance looked at him to see if he turned around, wanting to see if what he said had somewhat troubled him. 

"I guess? Shiro's spending a lot of time at Allura's. Kinda beats the purpose of getting married and all if you ask me." He explained somewhat exasperatedly. 

"He's still you're brother though, you have to be there for him." Lance said softly and gently to appease the easily irritated Keith. 

He tried to calm down by breathing in and out and then speaking. "I know that but, yknow, it's weird. I feel like Shiro's more my boss nowadays than my brother." 

"I know what you're talking about." He stared at the ground and kicked a small tuff of snow. 

"You do?" Keith looked towards Lance now. 

"Sorta. My older brother and sister were practically adults when I was a teen and the younger ones were babies so I didn't have people to hang out with when I was at home." He tried explaining by moving his hands more than his mouth. "I just wanted to hang out more with my older siblings without feeling left out."

"So, what did you do?" His brows were pulled together. 

"Eventually I tried to push myself into their conversations and as it turned out they weren't ignoring me!" He exclaimed. 

Keith put his hand across his mouth in thought "So what you're saying is that I try and make him talk to me first?" 

"Not really, I'm just trying to tell a story."

"But your point gets across." 

"Fair enough." Lance shrugged. 

Slowly, they shuffled closer without noticing because their bodies were seeking warmth in each other. Lance's fingers had brushed with Keith's several times but neither moved their hands. Both of their mouths emitted hazy and visible warm air amongst the cold. The sensation teleported him back into Keith's couch the night before when they huddled into each other in search of the warmth. 

A familiar screeching sound in the distance approaching made Lance's ears perk up. As they turned a corner the railroad train opened its doors, almost invitingly to Lance. Keith could recognize the tired look in his face, begging him to go home and sleep the day.

"Go home if you want." He nudged Lance with his arm to the train's direction. "Sleep it out." 

Lance hesitated but complied and stepped forward after looking back at Keith. 'Sleep does sound promising.' He shook his head and rubbed his hands at the headache still present and making a comeback. "You're right." He chuckled "I need some of my beauty sleep back." He said whilst rubbing his face. 

"You're gonna need to hibernate then." Keith responded and left Lance's mouth agape, to which he sneered. 

"I'm gonna leave and act like I didn't hear that." He turned around giving Keith the 'talk to the hand' pose and stepped inside the train. 

Keith was just standing outside and rolling his eyes when he spoke. "Calm down drama queen it's just a joke." 

"So you're saying I'm attractive?" Lance raised a cocky eyebrow and goofy smile. 

Keith paused and, with a red peppered face, analyzed his answer thoroughly with wide restless eyes but when he drew air to speak the train door automatically slides shut quickly, leaving Keith's words hanging in midair. 

Lance did not anticipate the functioning doors and was left disappointed on an empty train cart because he never heard the end of the conversation. After almost snoozing on the hard plastic seats, he got off his respective stop. He practically slumped into the door as he hardly had the strength to heave it open. Without bothering to remove his day old stinking clothes and incompletely pushing off his sneakers he plopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. 

Except this time, it wasn't so easy. Even while suffering through a hangover and dealing with insufficient sleep for a month, Lance couldn't stop the ongoing and never ending train ride that is his mind to stop. Inside his closed eyelids, he re-lived the night from the moment Keith removed his helmet so effortlessly last night to him sounding like he was taking Keith on a date on the beach to the panicked yet slightly red face he last saw before the train door slid shut. He felt his heart beat out of his chest and beat harder whenever the image of Keith truly laughing was brought up. 

Through hazy memories he picked up a picture of a pretty drawing. First as a central focus, the thought went spreading out and filed the canvas. He was holding Keith's left hand in his in it while zooming in on his symbol, unaware of his tender yet gentle grip on his hand. He then lifted his head from the pillow and looked at his empty left hand with a frustrated sigh before combing his gaze throughout the room, his eyes in search of a specific object. He got up to get it and returned to the spot where he started. He leered at his hand once again and thought it looked pathetic in comparison to what he had seen the night prior. 

He looked back at the black marker in his other hand and gripped it to uncap it with his mouth. He traced smooth lines across his taut and tanned skin with the biggest intention to imitate a tattoo artist at his job, precise and ever so accurate. He looked back at his work in admiration and let the worries fall off his back as he had just this moment alone to himself to believe he was normal. He even rubbed his fingers on it, no smears, just like the real thing. He curdled up in his bed with his hand in front of him because in the very back of his head he wanted Keith's symbol to be the last thing he saw. The moon and stars never looked as beautiful until they were in his hand.

 

____________________________

 

Tension pulsated throughout the atmosphere and the sound of dress shoes slowly clacking against hardwood floor resounded. Keith staggered and struggled to stand straight and gulped as he fumbled to keep a stray hair behind his ear. The gallery director slowly prowled in front of Keith's new set of freshly finished painted works. Keith felt the man’s eyes tear and brash through his paintings while he watched them intently, as if the colorful brush strokes or the very image itself was going to move. He eyed the illustration where realistic blue silky curtains shrouded a dark yet peaceful male figure underneath. Shuffling, he moved over to one of Keith's most recent and favorite piece; a golden bronze man floating on the water's surface with their arms extended and with a blissful appearance as they let the sky blue waves envelop them just as clouds seemed to hung low from the sky and enshroud him in it. 

With a tap of the shoe, the man in power turned around and Keith immediately felt sick to his stomach. His eyes gazed at the artist like last time, and it wasn't a happy thought to Keith. 

He started to stifle a chuckle. "Blue." Keith furrowed his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" He looked back at the paintings and he couldn't deny most them fell into the blue hue range. 

"I see you like blue. I enjoy the sight of it as well. The cool and soothing look yet the vicious and somewhat dangerous feeling; like this one." He tapped the side of the one he spoke about. It depicted a blank left hand flipping the bird as it stood before a multitude of other hands as it all was on top of a dark blue backdrop with sky blue lighting circling around them along with coarse brushstrokes of different hues. Keith knew it was a rather touchy and controversial subject (even in art) but his fiery red heart and stubborn mindset made him add it in anyways. 

Before he could have explained his actions to the director, he interrupted him. "At first I wondered if you were hit by a blue crayon but then I figured it out." He grinned all-knowingly. "It's someone, isn't it?" 

"Uh....what?" Keith deadpanned.

He let out a small laugh and spoke "No need to fret. I've seen it many times. Artists tend to somewhat bloom when it comes to love." He explained but left Keith more confused and bewildered than he was prior. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but believe me I-it's nothing like that." He tripped on his words. Without a doubt in Keith's mind he was recalling back the moment he saw Lance in a new light that certain Friday, which made him wonder how could he not have seen his flawless tan skin or his perfect set of pearl-like teeth under his thin yet visually luscious lips or the way his blue eyes stood out when he was shocked or excited. 

The older man looked at Keith through his wrinkly eyes and slipped of a soft smile "I see how it is." He took a step back and cleared his throat before turning to the handful of paintings taking up the wall's space. "I'll take them." He clapped as he twisted to Keith. 

Keith inwardly somersaulted and celebrated while his outside self still stood rigid and almost reluctant to move an inch. His face rapidly shot into a grin as he went to shake the director's hand while thanking him before two men stepped in the room and proceeded to handle the paintings carefully and hauled them away. Silently, Keith bid goodbye to each one of his creations until there were none left in the vast gallery.

The director, still beside him, clapped his back softly in appreciation "I knew you had it in you. I will contact you later and we'll talk about the starting price for the auction. Good day." He retreated into the same door his painting went in. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart pumped in excitement. The feeling of validation surged through his body until his lips pulled from ear to ear and caught himself smiling brightly to himself alone. Keith thought back to the moments he would sneak glances at Lance to take a mental photograph and burn it into his long term memory, even though a handful of times he was caught staring and eventually got into awkward situations.

But somewhere, deep inside, he felt that all the times he tried to replicate his model (his muse) on either paper or canvas he felt that an unsatisfactory feeling traced behind at the thought of his drawing not coming close to giving justice for the real life Lance. Real life Lance wasn't a Greek god that made people quiver in his presence (even though he likes to think that). Real life Lance was a tall struggling college boy that most of the time comes in looking disheveled and even as he was having the shittiest day of his life he always tried to push through a grin or amusing eyebrow wiggle for anyone, including Keith. It was things like that that made Keith come to respect Lance in some sort of way, and that also made him grow fond of the other man in the short period they’ve known one another. 

The crunch of hard snow sounded beneath him as he trotted with a smile and warm cheeks. 

______

The head lifting chime of familiar bells signaled a customer's entrance. Lance stepped in calmly into the near empty bar and took his usual place in front of Keith, who felt happy seeing him. Keith pulled out his favorite beer from the freezer that Lance has begun to call 'The Regular'

"What's up?" Lance asked. 

"Nothing much" Keith pouted "Slow day" he rested his hands upon the counter and looked back at Lance. 

"Shiro's not here.... again." Lance pointed out while he looked around the pub. 

"He's uh, meeting up with some people and planning the wedding." He explained. 

"When's it gonna be?" He asked. 

"In the spring." He answered. 

Lance looked surprised and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What? Isn't there little time left?"

Keith shrugged. "They wanted to get married quickly I guess." 

Lance murmured "Shit." Before taking a long sip of his cold bottle. 

"Shit indeed." He replied. 

Lance's ears perked up as he thought of something. "Wait does that mean," he asked Keith "Am I gonna be invited?" His eyes widened as well as his grin. 

"Of course!" Keith said matter-of-factly. "Shiro would be an idiot if he didn't invite you."

 

He jumped in his chair and smiled to himself "Aw man I gotta go get a suit ready." 

Keith patted himself in the back and stared back at Lance during his burst of excitement. Keith looked back at the opening front door then heard Lance's voice "Something's been bothering me these last couple of days." He whispered and didn't expect Keith to have listened, but he did. 

"What happened? Tell me about it." Keith said worrisomely. 

He hesitated in telling him but did it anyway. "The other day I kinda got in a fight with Hunk and Pidge."

"A fight?" Keith's eyes opened. 

"An argument, really. Either way I feel like they're ignoring me. I acted like a jackass and I can't talk about it with them since they don't even answer the fucking phone anymore." He furrowed his eyebrows and scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. 

Keith took a deep breath and looked back across the pub. "Why don't you talk to them right now?" He pointed towards Hunk and Pidge sitting down on a booth in a corner of the pub. Pidge was especially staring through her thin framed glasses at the both. 

Lance turned around and cursed in Spanish as he breathed out.

Keith noticed the worry coming over his body steadily. "J-Just, tell them what you're thinking. I'm sure they'll understand." Keith threw a crooked reassuring smile. Lance glanced back at Keith one last time and nodded slightly before he hopped off the stool and walked anxiously to the booth while grabbing a spare chair to sit in between them. 

From Keith's point of view, he couldn't hear a single word but he could see the expressions all three of them made in detail along with the wild hand gestures that Lance always does when he's stressed. He carried on with his work by serving the tables all throughout the pub but didn't dare come close to earshot of their private conversation. It was only several minutes later that Pidge and Hunk emerged from their seats to talk to Lance directly. Pidge's face softened and pulled into a small smile while Hunk came behind Lance and gave him a bear hug. Keith assumed the matter had been resolved quickly. 

Lance rolled up his jacket's sleeves up his arm and exhaled into his hand. Keith heard his footsteps walk closer and turned around to greet him. "Everything go ok?-" Keith stopped in his tracks and slid his opened and shocked eyes up and down Lance's now bare left arm. His hand to be exact now had what it appeared to be his own ink symbol. With a shaky breath, he examined it from afar and concluded it was exactly to the one in his own left hand. Keith looked back into Lance's eyes, searching for an answer but he only stared at Lance's also widened and shocked eyes. 

Keith nearly sprinted across the bar and grabbed Lance's wrist and ran with him into the privacy of the staff room. In the frigid and white room, Keith fumbled and clumsily took off his glove to show off his own ink. He then took Lance's hand and compared them both. They looked down at their hands and contemplated at the proximity of their bodies and their shaking breaths. 

Keith was riled up on emotions he couldn't even comprehend. The warmth that engulfed his chest was utterly pleasing but sense of panic that surged through his fingers was surely frightening. The feeling of dread towards the unknown future crossed his mind but peace replaced it once he looked up to Lance's blue eyes. 

"Y-You." He stuttered and gulped. "You're my s-soulmate." He stood wide eyed into the space between their chests. 

"Appears so." Lance looked like he was in a bind as well. Keith, felt he was just as panicked as he was. "I-I mean are you ok with that? I'm just as sh-shocked as you are right now and I don't know what to say-" Lance spoke rapidly and without thinking. 

Keith quieted him by pulling him closer into his arms and wrapping them on his waist, thus hugging him tenderly while searching for the lost heat in the freezing room they're in. Lance responded my hugging him back. 

Keith, who kept his distance from everyone and was never the most participant person when it came to forming bonds, initiated a hug with the person whom he thought was the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid his eyes on. He'd thought his attraction for him was nothing but for aesthetic reasons, his wanting to draw every single inch of his face and body; but as time passed he came to long Lance's hands holding his own and his lips brushing against his neck. All of which he kept under covers. To be able to hold him like he was and call him his soulmate, made his heart flutter. 

Lance reluctantly pulled away, making Keith's chest miss the contact. His face felt warm as Lance cupped both his hands on Keith's cheeks. Lance's blush spread across his face as he gazed into Keith's somewhat nervous eyes. 

They both inched their faces closer but each time was not enough. It was until Keith felt the grip on his face change and saw Lance shutter his eyes closed before softly pressing his lips on his. He followed him and closed his eyes and felt a feeling similar to the rush of euphoria while butterflies kicked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bring home the angst baby  
> ((Pls don't kill me))


	7. Chapter 7

Lance dragged a stray chair and plopped it in between Pidge and Hunk. Their solemn faces made Lance want to cower and run away. "How'd you know I was here?" He grumbles as he sat down. 

"Your mom called Hunk yesterday on Christmas." Pidge explained but held on to her bitter face underneath her glasses. "Said you didn't call her back after she rung you about a million times." 

 

"She was really worried, Lance." Hunk said through a worried and confused look in his eyes. 

 

Lance sighed and sunk into his chair out of the sheer guilt consuming him. He scratched the back of his head and rustled his short and dirty hair. "My uh-flight got canceled." 

 

"And you didn't think to call your family?" She raised an eyebrow. 

 

"I-" Pidge still lowered at Lance. He couldn't stand the look of disappointment and past worry on her face. He wondered if she was still mad at him for snapping at her in the corridor. After an observation into her body language, Lance gravely concluded that she indeed was, and was just forced to come along thanks to Hunk. For a moment, he felt clammy and nervous while he thought up of something to end his sentence with. After a deep breath, he spoke before taking the hands out of his hair "I was fucked up Pidge, I can't -" 

"Bullshit, you're fucked up half of the time I see you." Pidge spat and Hunk tried to calm her down from across the table. 

 

Lance lowered his head in between his arms and tried to cover his ears and close his eyes forcefully so he could analyze what he could possibly do next. In front of him, Pidge said a distasteful comment under her breath that made Hunk chide her. 

 

Lance gulped down and replied. "I-I'm sorry. I'll make sure to call her today." Pidge sighed but wasn't because of relief. "Also-" He gathered up the courage he needed and straightened up in his chair and looked towards his friend's eyes. "Also, I apologize for what I said the last day. I was messed up 'cause of those finals and decided to take it out on you two after it all." He spoke with a saddened face because, after all, it was something grim to talk about for Lance. He felt guilty not only for taking it out with his friends but also for keeping it in for the longest time, his worries and anxieties and questions without their respectful answers. 

 

"You know what Lance? I - " Pidge began to speak but Lance interrupted her before she could make her point.

"I wasn't finished Pidge." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I know you're both pissed with me and I get it. I'm a selfish asshole and I take full responsibility of that. And you two have stuck through with me even when I say or do the most fucked up things. And for that I haven't thanked you enough." Lance lowered his head and heard nothing in return from the two. 

 

Just as Lance's worry grew, he lifted his head to see Pidge's face in utter surprise while Hunk guffawed in front of her. "Damn." She muttered and slid off her glasses from her nose to rub her eyes. "Are you crying?" Said Hunk. 

 

"What? No way man." Pidge laughed off. "Lance, I was just gonna say I wasn't expecting that. Holy shit." 

 

"S-Sorry." He retracted back into his seat. 

 

"No no no not that. It's that-" She rushed to explain until Hunk spoke up. "You don't normally say stuff like that dude. Are you ok?"

 

"I'm fine, I guess. I haven't been sleeping well for a couple of months now, but it's ok now." He finished with a small smile. 

 

"How come 'it's ok now'?" Asked Pidge skeptically, using air quotes. 

 

"I don't know." He regarded at the air in front of his eyes while a stray hand smoothed over his left hand's skin. "It's probably because of that." He muttered under his breath quickly to himself. 

 

"What's 'That'?" Hunk seemed to pick up on his words "Hello? Earth to Lance?" He exclaimed once he saw Lance wasn't responding. 

 

"Nothing! Really it's nothing!" He lifted his hands in innocence. They each both raised an eyebrow at him and thought Lance was freaking about, which meant he was definitely lying. 

 

Pidge's eyes narrowed and slid down her chair as she spoke "I see what it is." 

 

"You do?" Hunk exclaimed with a smile that completely said, 'tell me everything'

 

"You do?" Lance muttered in confusion. 

 

Pidge, in response to the both, gazed towards the bar as if her eyes worked as a pointer. Hunk turned his head to peek at Keith, who was generally minding his own business and doing his job. Lance also peeked at the male only to turn back to Pidge with panicky eyes.

 

"Oh my god are you kidding me?! Keith!?" He whisper-yelled before his throat clenched up in a nervous twinge. 

 

"It makes sense." Pidge analyzed with a snide the situation under her wise gaze. "I can't believe Lance is in love with the bartender." 

 

"I'm not in love!" His voice cracked when he said it and quickly shut up. 

 

"That's exactly what someone who is in love would say." Hunk muttered playfully under his breath just for the sole purpose to annoy Lance. 

 

Lance acted like he didn't hear him and continued. "Either ways! What can I do!? I'm just a blank." He said his last words and immediately shrunk back into his chair just as a gloomy mist spread over him. It pained him to say it. He was already tired of being hopeful and decided to just finally let in the harsh reality. 

 

Both Hunk and Pidge swallowed their words and regretted the ones they already said. Now it was their turn to feel guilty. They knew about Lance's complex firsthand more than anyone and still dared to bring up the topic of love. Hunk opened his mouth to apologize but was beat to it. 

 

"But whatever y'know?" Lance shrugged and shook off the gloom resting on his shoulders like stray snow. "Life's life." He checked the hour hands on the clock perched on the wall and jumped in his seat. 

 

"Actually, I need to go." He really didn't. "I have some work to do." He just wanted something -anything- to happen so he could get away from the conversation. 

 

"Yea me too." "Me three." They said before saying their goodbyes and exiting. 

 

Lance felt the weight off his shoulders and finally had the safety to relax. Pushing up his sleeves up his arms, he walked towards the bar to his most likely lukewarm bottle of beer. Keith suddenly pulled into his view so Lance yanked his eyes forward towards Keith's small smile wording out "Everything go ok?" Before his eyes and mouth shot open. 

 

He wasn't looking at him, more at his hand. Lance looked down and felt his threat dry up. The marker's almost solid ink remained in his left hand like it belonged there (Lance wished it did.) He looked up at Keith's reaction to it. He certainly knew it was in fact, his symbol on another person's body. To Lance, Keith wasn't taking the news very well. 

 

It wasn't until Keith grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the staff room that Lance truly thought of the gravity of the situation. A million different outcomes circled in Lance's head while he watched Keith almost anxiously strip off his glove. Once he tells him it's not real, and it was just drawn on, what would he say? Keith grabbed his left arm to examine it and came back up anew. 

 

"Y-You." He stuttered and gulped. "You're my s-soulmate." He stood wide eyed into the space between their chests. 

 

"Appears so." Lance was panicking and looking all over the place but at the same time his eyes stood fixed on the same place. "I-I mean are you ok with that? I'm just as sh-shocked as you are right now and I don't know what to say-" 

 

Warmth

 

He felt it first spreading inside through his chest area and finding its way throughout the entirety of his body. He looked down to see Keith's figure taking his body in his arms. In the moment of deserved shock, for a second he stood not knowing what to do until common sense told him to hug Keith back.

 

The indescribable feeling of weak knees and thumping heart going over the speed limit hit Lance with tenfold strength. He enjoyed it more than any hug he'd ever had. Subsequently he wanted more than what Keith could offer. To explore into uncharted territory of male anatomy other than his own was a hidden desire. To get to know each inch of skin by its rightful taste was a dream. 

 

Yet, a worrisome pit of sullen feelings brew in the bottom of Lance's stomach. Telling him to stop and confess that it's all fake and it is the result of an illusion made by a cheap marker. Screaming at him to stop in the middle of euphoria he most definitely was so happy to let out and be free. With every cell, particle, atom telling Lance to stop the ever-wanted moment; Lance rejected it all. Because, he thought, to take away someone's happiness -otherwise known as soulmate- was something even Lance didn't wish upon his worst enemy. 

 

Lance softly created space between them so he could see Keith's face clearly and without obstructions. Lance cupped both sides of his face with his hands and stared deep into Keith's blissful half open eyes. Even though Lance thought he was soon to explode, Keith noticed nothing as he made his was closer into Lance's face. They stared longingly into each other even thought they were centimeters apart from full collision. 

 

Multiple echoes shouted in Lance's head. Half telling him to stop and half telling him to take what he wanted. Knowing him, he chose the latter. 

 

He closed his eyes and pulled Keith into him for a kiss that was meant as only a pucker but evolved into something else. Like if someone Lance didn't know awakened inside Keith, wanting and possessive. The wrapped arms around Lance's waist became tighter and he could feel Keith was slightly on his tippy toes. His hands, placed so softly on his cheeks traveled back into his silky mass of hair. He let his fingers comb over the hair in the base of his nape while Lance could feel the smile forming on Keith's lips through closed eyes. His lips, were as soft yet slightly chapped as he'd imagine every time he'd looked at them while he was working and when he didn't know he was being watched. He wished the moment could be dragged on for eternity but unfortunately for Lance, it was real life. 

 

Keith pulled out of the kiss first, looking flustered yet having a smile on his face. He noticed he was staring too much and looked down at his feet in dismay, murmuring "I can't believe this is happening." In his shaky breath. 

 

"Me neither to be honest." Lance guffawed at the ceiling with a goofy smile on his face. "But I'm glad it's you." 

 

_____________________________

 

Lance looked down at his phone to check the time for the fifteenth time. 10:48. He sat in a black and slightly rusted metal chair posed in the indoors of a warm cafe with a small menu at hand. He looked at the street before him for a sign. 

 

10:49. Final reminders ran through his head. 'Check your teeth. Close your fly. Feel the marker in your back pocket. Flatten your hair. Check your breath. Smile.' 

 

10:50, his phone read. 'Am I early? Is he late? Should I be mad? Should I be concerned? Is it too early for this?' 

 

Running footsteps were heard followed by a skid before Keith stood in front of Lance. 'There he is.', Lance's eyes shone and his heart stopped beating for a moment. In a matter of milliseconds, Lance analyzed Keith's face, and found it to be more and more able to melt Lance's senses than ever. 

 

"I'm sorry I'm late!" He apologized before sitting down in front of Lance without taking his eyes off him. "Got stuck in shitty traffic on the way." He sighed to the ground but looked back up with a small and nervous smile. "Uh- How's it been?" 

 

Lance raised an eyebrow. "It's been eventful." His smile grew tender "I scored a date with the cutest bartender around town. That itself is pretty fucking big." 

 

Keith looked baffled at his words but didn't respond. Instead he buried his head in the menu. Lance couldn't help to feel giddy in his stomach when he saw Keith's blood rushing into his face. 

 

With a sigh, Lance thought back at the times he dreaded going into the outside because of the fear of the millions of eyes on his lonely self. All the pity thrown mercilessly at him and the nuisance he's been to his loved ones. In an instant, all those fears faded away. He couldn't help to find the comfort he had looked and longed for years in a cafe's rusty chair with somebody else filling the spot in front of him. Eating with someone hasn't been more exciting. 

 

"If you don't mind, I already ordered for you." Lance declared as he saw the waiter bringing over two plates. Keith perked up at the sound of clinking silverware in front of him. He looked down to see identical plates of grilled cheese. 

 

"You serious?" He raised an eyebrow at the other man. 

 

"I've never been more serious in my life." Lance said firmly. 

 

"Fine then." He picked up the sandwich and bit down on it. 

 

They ate quietly and without hesitation or doubt as they shared the comforting space they had created for themselves. Eventually a small dispute grew when it came to the check.

 

("Don't worry Lance, it's on me."

 

"Back off I'll pay."

 

"Sit down I said it first."

 

"Oops, my wallet is already out."

 

"Son of a bitch-" )

 

They ended up spitting the small check. 

 

Lance thought, as they walked down the street just like the other couples, that arranging a date was harder than it seemed like on Tv. You had to satisfy the other person without risking yourself along the way and to top it off you didn't want to seem like you weren't enjoying yourself, because that would make the other person sad. Not that Lance wasn't enjoying himself, he would actually bend his back to make Keith laugh again. 

 

As they walked, neither could resist the temptation crawling through and up their arms every time their fingers brushed across each other. They averted eyes and couldn't even bring themselves to look at the other's shadow that was stretched out in front of them. Attempts to start a conversation were rare and often were at the expense of a really awkward moment. Tension climbed between them. 

 

It wasn't until they strolled along Altea Craft, and Keith's pace slowed down compared to Lance's while he examined the insides of the arts and crafts store. Lance immediately knew he wanted to go so he lead him inside. 

 

Altea Craft smelled like paint and clean canvases. Just as Lance began to take in all the colors and whimsical decorations of the store, Keith seemed to go under his radar and disappeared underneath the shelves. 

 

It took Lance a while to find him. He was standing before a vast array of paint brushes of varying sizes and widths with a pensive look on his face Lance had never seen before. Furrowing his eyebrow and actually nibbling on his nails. Keith didn't notice Lance was watching until the wooden floorboard below him freaked under his weight. Keith spun around with a handful of brushes in his hand and looked at Lance sporting an almost guilty face. 

 

Following him into the next isle, Lance grabbed a pair of small wooden art figure models while Keith examined canvases. He gently tapped Keith's shoulder to not make a sound and lead him to where Lance had joined together the two figure models to look like they were recreating a sex act. 

 

"Look at that Keith. Look at it." He whispered while trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter. Beside him, Keith scoffed and went back to the canvases but not without a humorous chuckle under his breath and a glimpse behind his back to see Lance almost bent up in laughter. Into the back of the shop, Lance spotted something and immediately let out a gasp. 

 

"Babe look at me." He said as he tried to not crack up. 

 

"The fuck. Did you just call me-" Keith looked at him and was silenced by his laughs. Lance had found a brown afro and giant paint palate which he then put on. 

 

"Look I'm Bob Ross." He said and acted like he was painting the canvas in front of him. 

 

"Oh my god. How dare you insult Bob Ross." 

 

Lance dug into his back pocket and fetched out his phone and handed it to Keith. "Take a picture of me." He said and posed just like Bob Ross in front a shelf full of paint bottles. Keith took multiple pictures because they would come out blurry since he was still laughing at Lance. 

 

Lance took his phone back and pulled in Keith closer to him and switched the camera for its selfie mode. Keith panicked a little but in the end had his picture taken beside the Bob Ross impersonator. 

 

They proceeded up front to pay but before Keith could've gotten his wallet out, Lance already took out his. 

 

"My treat." He shrugged with a taut smile. 

 

"You don't have to do that Lance really-"

 

"I want to do this for you."

 

Keith felt undeniably guilty yet happy because of his brand new art supplies while Lance staggered and took a double look at the receipt. 

 

They walked together towards the center of town where the snowy decorations still thrived. Finally succeeding to close the space between their bodies and through their conjoined hands. 

 

After an extended amount of time, the hours drifted away into nothingness as they were left walking and laughing and loving and breathing. Bystanders were blurry to Lance's sight because every nerve of his brain concentrated on the epicenter of happiness beside him. They bickered, and slightly shoved the other out of the way, but the way their eyes danced when they were close was the definition of love in Lance's head. They made way throughout the town as if they were bewitched with an eternity. 

 

Clock hands spun and the sun was trying to make its way to its nightly hiding place. Keith led the way in front of Lance as he took him to, what Lance thought, was a detour. They scrambled between alleyways and dodged seemingly hazardous items scattered on the floor.

 

"Uh, Keith? You know which way you're going?" Lance said out loud when he looked up and saw they sky halfway through its turn into rich cobalt blue and suddenly feeling the hint of true nervousness in his stomach.

 

"I'm sure of it" Keith responded through a dangerously fun grin. 

 

"Where are we even going?" Lance's voice cracked midway through but it let Keith know he was scared, and so he picked up the pace without saying anything else. 

 

He stopped next to a set of stairs that made its way up a tall brick building. Keith made way and hinted Lance to go and claim up first.

 

"You go first." He said with a grin.

 

Lance looked back dubiously and put his foot's weight into the first step of the rusty old ice-covered zig-zagging staircase. Looking at it didn't break under pressure, Lance walked up calmly yet with caution while Keith followed nonchalantly from behind. The building was higher than Keith's apartment building so naturally they both fell tired after a while but kicked up the pace once Lance offered a race. 

 

Crashing down on the ceiling's cold cement, only Lance looked up to see the sunset occurring right before him on the horizon beyond. They overlooked the whole town and they whole sky. 

 

"Holy shit." Lance softly breathed out and extended his arms far away from his body to take in the air blowing at his direction. 

 

"Like the view?" Keith chuckled next to him with his feet planted on the ground and looking up at Lance. 

 

"Not as much as yours." He pointed at Keith with his own eyes and took inside the sight of Keith's longer hair rustling and flying in the wind and reach out his hand to comb through his hair. In response, he chuckled to the ground with peach colored cheeks that resembled the dying embers of the sun's rays in front of them. 

 

"I just feel like, shouting y'know?" Lance joked. "Shout some 'I'm king of the world' shit."

 

"I dare you to do it." Said Keith. 

 

"You don't think I'm capable?" 

 

"Just fucking do it." 

 

He did. He literally shouted off the rooftop all of his feelings that caved inside him and eventually over time went to break him. He needed to clear them out to make room for the new ones. And instead of feelings of self worth issues and anxiety, only love and happiness would be allowed to fill them. 

 

When he went to catch a breath he saw Keith was shouting as well next to him, probably doing the same thing he was. A laugh escaped his lips as he looked at where they were now. What started as a bartender that was sick of his shit ended up being someone he could keep forever. 

 

They later sat on the edge to take a breath and let their feet hang loose above the streets many stories below. Instead of looking down they couldn't help but only to look at each other or at the horizon. 

 

"I can't help to think" Lance spoke with his eyes closed "that this is the best moment of my entire fucking life." 

 

"Same here." He said in a small murmur only he could hear, slightly croaked because of all the shouting. 

 

"Hey Keith." Said Lance as he rested his head on Keith's shoulder and glued his eyes to the fading orange horizon until there was nothing left but blue. 

 

"Hm?" He responded and Lance felt the vibrations of his speech and the rise and fall of his lungs. 

 

"Can I kiss you?" He said. His breath quickened. 

 

"Sure. Go for it." Keith said calmly while his heart nervously pumped adrenaline into his veins. 

 

Lance kissed him and Keith kissed back immediately. They backed off the edge of the building hastily so they could kiss without fearing they would fall. Keith slithered his fingers up Lance's back (leaving goosebumps as its trail) until they found his hair. Gripping the short hair in between his gloveless fingers pulling it as they sank deeper into the kiss.

 

Lance drove his fingers to Keith's waist and circled the exposed skin under his disheveled shirt. Right then, Lance knew Keith was ticklish by the way his body squirmed as he kept smoothing his soft skin. When squirming wasn't enough, Keith resorted to biting Lance's lip to make him stop, which wasn't a bad thing in Lance's book. 

 

They thought they could go on forever making out under the stars. They felt invincible, the true prime of their life. Nothing could stop them, except thunder. 

 

Their lips were red and bitten when they pulled out to look at the dark gray night sky and the clashes of lighting far, far away in a distant and completely different town. Instead of rain, the two expected snow, but instead of that it began raining hail.

 

They jumped up and began going down the slippery staircase while avoiding falling pebbles of ice and actually trying not to slip and fall several stories down. Following Keith to get out of the maze of dark alleys, Lance slipped and fell but Keith grabbed his hand and pulled him up. They got to the deserted Main Street looking for shelter and found what they were looking for, below a closed flower shop's awning. They watched the hail come clattering down on the asphalt from the shadow and caught their breath.

 

"You ok?" Keith breathed out. 

 

"At least I think I am." Lance wiped the sweat from his brow. As he bent down he spotted something on the floor. "Huh, I know you already told me not to do this but-" he picked up a stray rose laying on the flower shop's footstep. "This is fucking hilarious." He handed it to Keith. 

 

"Oh my fucking god." He took the flower and lowered his head. He once said he didn't want any flowers, but the broken and botched rose made Keith want to smile. 

 

"I hate you." He said through a snigger. 

 

"Shut up I know you like me." He raised his eyebrow and put an arm around his shoulder and tugged him closer. 

 

"You're right, and I hate it." 

 

Lance shrugged. For then it was only them and their breathing and the million bits and pieces of ice falling and colliding with the ground. Water splashed their faces from time to time. Because of that, Lance had to cover his left hand with his pocket. He'd hate for it to mess up the ink.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delayed (and very fucking short) chapter.

"Are you done?" 

"Not yet Lance."

About three seconds passed. 

"How 'bout now?" 

"No!"

"You said you'd be done in a minute!"

"Shut up and could you sit still?"

Lance moved in his chair as he pleased to piss of the other male standing strides away in front of a giant sketchpad and covered in charcoal. 

"Fuck I forgot how annoying live models could be." Keith furrowed his eyebrows. 

"You wish your other models where like me." Lance spat playfully. 

"Keep telling yourself that." He rolled his eyes. Scribbling sounds filled the apartment and Lance's eyes made way to Keith's face to stare at how his eyes open in concentration and how he moves his lips to the rhythm of his strokes across the thick paper. Lance found himself smiling and giggling every time Keith's eyes shot to him quicker than lighting, either to continue drawing him or to check him out. 

"I think." Keith squinted to look at the picture from both up close and far away. "We're done here." 

Lance stood up and shuffled quickly behind Keith to look over his shoulder. He gasped when he looked at the drawing. It was exactly him, sitting on a chair and looking at the viewer with a soft smile that upturned his eyes. From his scattered small freckles to the small hues of blue charcoal that colored his eyes and to the exact wrinkles of his clothes, it was exactly him and better than anything he could imagine. 

"That's so fucking amazing!" He said into Keith's ear. He unknowingly wrapped his arms around Keith's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. "You're amazing." He breathed in and kissed the soft skin that is his neck. He abused his power of knowing Keith is slightly ticklish and planted small and quick kisses along his neck so he could hear him laugh again. 

"Stop that!" He said in between laughs. 

"Never!"

Keith turned around and planted a big peck on his lips. Instead of more kissing they gazed into each other's eyes and found it to be much more better. 

"You know what?" Lance said not even above a whisper. 

"What?" Keith replied in the same way.

"I want to draw you." His eyes fluttered closed at the thought.

"Oh really?" Keith said in his normal voice and raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you saying I'm a bad drawer?" Lance said jokingly. 

"I'm not saying anything." He shrugged. 

"Go sit down there. It's my turn to shine." Said Lance and randomly grabbed a colored pencil out of their color-coded case. "What's your favorite color?" He asked Keith. 

"Uh- red." He pointed to the shirt he was wearing, which was a deep red. 

He took the red pencil and started imitating what Keith had been doing prior. Lance started with his head, that came out looking more like an egg. He drew two circles with a dot for eyes and a big smile like the one he loved. He then started on the hair and it turned out to look like the hair of an 80's anime character.

"Aw shit where's the eraser?" He sighed. "Nevermind, I’ll just draw over it." 

"Art is hard" confirmed Keith. 

"Yea no shit." Lance chuckled. Lance didn't even mind to draw the body because he didn't know where to begin so he just left it blank from the chest down. He added details such as Keith's short yet adorable eyelashes and the small dimples on his cheeks. 

"I think it's done!"

Keith jumped off the chair and skipped towards the sketch and couldn't help but to stifle an oncoming laugh behind his hand. "Don't laugh!" Lance's cheeks reddened a tinge. 

"I'm not laughing!"

"Actually, you're right, it's pretty shitty-" He chuckled. 

"Hey you said it, not me." 

"I couldn't really capture your beauty with a crayola pencil." His voice dropped smoothly and truthfully which made Keith's heart tumble like it was the best kiss of his life. 

Keith curled his hand into a fist and lightly, playfully punched Lance'a arm. "Shut up." 

Lance raised an eyebrow and leveled his face with Keith's before whispering "Make me." 

Keith's eyes fluttered shut and let out a smiling sigh. "You wouldn't want that." He shook his head slowly. He grabbed the other's hands in his and intertwined their fingers together. 

The grossly clichéd manners of affection were greatly emphasized in their relationship from the way they held their hands in public to how they looked at each other with nothing other than sweetness. Things that months ago would make the two revolt and cringe were what they longed for from their soulmate after a long day without contact. All they wanted was the other, and forgot the outside world along with its problems; for now. 

________________________________

The homely atmosphere around The Lions was attracting and comfortable for the two rambunctious boys on the outside. 

"Lance I really need to go or Shiro's gonna kick my ass." Keith stammered as he tried to delicately pry Lance's hands off him. 

"One more kiss?" Lance sweetly asked while his hands enveloped Keith in a tight yet tickling hug.

"Alright, alright!" He pecked Lance on the cheek and began to walk away quickly. 

"Hey that's not fair!" He said to Keith's figure walking down to the back door. In response, Keith turned around and blew a sassy kiss at him before shutting the door. Lance was left in the cold streets feeling fuzzy inside and adoring. 

All was well until the fuzziness began to grow until Lance felt he was going to hurl. Panic seared through his body as it collapsed on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk. All the blood rushed to his head thus it felt hotter, clammier, and heavier than usual. Aside from the weight on his head, his chest pulled at the ground as well. Lungs hurt from panting and eyes were at their breaking point.

No fear was there of sickness or disease, but it was the weight of guilt pushing Lance down into the cold hard ground. The days needed to analyze his foolishness were not a handful. The small seed of guilt planted on his stomach grew into desperation and blossomed into fear. The marker in his back pocket was a reminder of it. 

Yet he wasn't able to remove it and most likely never will because every time he comes close to removing it, it enshrouds him in the most intoxicating perfume that leaves him bashful and kind hearted. 

As much as he wanted to let go of the rope burning his hand, he couldn't because he knew it would leave behind broken and furious hearts; both his and Keith's. 

His eyes flew to his blasted left hand. It was some quality of its beauty that made it eerie and strange to take in. The air around his turned thick around the pub and if it wasn't for the tiniest ray of sunshine hidden inside, he never would've entered. Lance sighed and balanced his mood as he took a step forward into The Lion's den. 

"What's happening Lance?" Shiro politely greeted him as he saw his figure take a step through the door. 

"Not much. How about you mister future-non-bachelor?" Lance replied with a raised eyebrow and quirky mood. 

"Don't ever call me that." He deadpanned.

"Alright sorry." 

Keith came out of the staff room looking nervous before his brother and quickly got in his place behind the bar. He didn't know how to break the news to him, or the way he would react. Keith would glance at Lance's profile for confirmation and got back the soothing reward of a reassuring smile. Keith crept his hand across the table to reach Lance's and intertwine their fingers. 

"Shiro- I think I found the one." Shiro turned around and found Keith looking softly at Lance. 

Shiro looked surprised because of the fond face Keith had in whenever he glanced between him and Lance. He patted Keith on his shoulder and pulled him into a bear hug along with loud claps on the back, to which Keith exhaled abruptly to each one. The wordless acceptance, made Keith's happiness soar. 

After some curious (and rather awkward) questions about how did they found out and how's it going, Shiro got called by an unknown person to Keith and Lance and once again he was gone and left the pub to Keith. 

"That was-" Said Lance, bewilderedly. "actually better than what I expected. Your brother is so chill about this."

"Not really, I could tell he was nervous." Keith said and pouted. "I wonder to what he's always running to." 

"If the boss does it, does it mean you can?" Lance raised an eyebrow. 

Keith shot him a quizzical look. "What I meant to say was," Lance said. "How 'bout we go out now? It's Tuesday and Tuesdays suck ass, even for drinking."

"Not a chance, Lance. I have to stay here no matter what and you know that." His brows furrowed and sharpened his eyes at Lance.

Lance frowned and fiddled with his backpack until he unzipped it. He opened his eyes in shock to see what was inside.   
Keith carried on. "You'd be surprised to see how many folks come here on Tues- Woa shit are those fireworks?" Keith pointed into Lance's backpack. He chuckled. "I forgot to take it out of here after my flight got canceled. It was meant to be a present for my little brother."

Keith raised an eyebrow "You got your brother a pack of fireworks?"

"The kid's fucking crazy for fireworks but mom never gets him any." He audibly gasped. "I have an idea."

"I'm immediately scared.” Keith cowered behind the bar.

"Wanna light them up?" Lance grinned.

"I told you I'm not supposed to get out of here." He desperately wanted to reason with Lance. 

"Please?" Lance grabbed Keith's hands in his own as he begged. He began to smother his knuckles with shallow kisses. "Pretty please?" He batted his lashes. 

Keith pondered and with a sweet grin nodded his head slightly. "I'll see if I can get off early." 

Lance grabbed him by his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips. Keith backed off in surprise with a gush of red fleeting his cheeks. "Wh-What was that for?" He asked. 

"No reason. I just like the face you make when I kiss you out of the blue." Lance sneered in delight. 

Keith in return, hid behind his hand. 

 

Around the time they were supposed to be cleaning up for the next working day, they had already closed and left the pub. All they saw was the dark stretch of asphalt below their ride as they exited the town. Keith suggested lighting the fireworks on the acres of empty land just outside the town and beside the speeding highway. The motorbike pulled off the road until its tires rubbed against the loud dry dirt, which had patches of melting snow and lukewarm puddles. 

Lance set the box of fireworks in dry land and began to rip out the thin layer of plastic separating him from the fun explosives. "Which one should we light first?" Lance grinned. 

"How about we light them all up at the same time!" Said Keith, his enthusiasm rising up to his fists. 

"Yea, let's not do that." He hesitated. "Besides, it can be a bit-"

"Amazing?!" He balled his hands into fists and raised them into the air.

"Dangerous." Lance finished in a grave tone. 

Keith scoffed "Dangerous? Yesterday you told me you once put a cake in the oven and raised the temperature to 400° for 10 minutes to see if the cake cooked faster."

"That was a science experiment!" Lance defended himself. 

Keith raised an eyebrow and let out the cute smile he always did when he was trying not to laugh. "Yea. Of course it was." 

"You know what? Let's start off with this one." Lance lifted a fair electric blue rocket in his hands. 

"Why not the red one?" He said, passive aggressively. 

"Fine we can both light it at the same time." He gave him a red colored rocket of the same kind and planted his on the ground, ready to be lit. He patted and prodded his jeans and jacket's pockets in search of something to light it with. Next to him, Keith waved a box of matches in front of his eyes. "I'm not gonna ask why you just seemed to be carrying around a box of matches." 

"Fine by me." He shrugged.

They pointed their projectiles out towards the night sky. The friction between the head of a match against its box's side illuminated both their faces, as they were already so close to each other's. Crouched and ready, they let their matches light aflame the thin string that made the fireworks sizzle and shoot to the sky, leaving behind a loud whistle. 

The two loud bangs could be heard in the middle of town. Many would have thought nothing of the sound, or might not even heard it. Others would think it was the doing of a power generator exploding across town or others might think it was the doing of their untrustworthy neighbor. But little did they know that with that loud sound, two young males conjoined hands and screamed into the night sky. 

The bright colors surged from their small epicenter in shooting and twirling glimmers. It's glitter spread towards every direction like some sort of neon dandelion that bloomed and withered away in less than a minute. It's dying yet shimmering embers, would linger as long as they possibly could until they disintegrated and became part of the almost star-less night, right next to the moon in its Waning Crescent phase. 

The males went into the box newly to retrieve more fireworks to light them aflame. And this carried on until the last twirler, rocket, and noise maker were used to their full extent. Keith's box of matches was just containing the very last one. The biggest, baddest firework still laid in the box. They interchanged looks of mischiefs and without any instructions, went to set it up. 

"Hold it with both hands. You don't want it going off course." Said Keith as he picked up the last match between his fingers.

"Light this bad boy up."

The fuse ate the fire up and left them with only mere seconds to retreat before it's takeoff sound shocked them. Lance walked backwards and accidentally slipped on the melting mounds of snow, which sent him back spiraling into even more snow. Keith didn't seem to notice he fell because of the fireworks exploding and spiraling up in the deep cobalt blue sky; Creating loud and violent purple sparks. As much as he was left breath-taken by the spectacle, Lance couldn't help but to look at the man above him whose face of wonder left him with skipping heartbeats. The purple light coming from the sky matched with his indigo (yet grayish) eyes. The last pop sounded like a memory. 

"Help me out here buddy?" Lance said from under Keith's nose and extended his hand up for help. Keith took his left hand in his and pulled him up swiftly. 

Lance was brushing his hands on his jeans for any stray snow as so did Keith, only to do a double-take at his hands. Black liquid had somehow smeared onto his palms. It wasn't any black liquid such as oil or paint, being recognized with it himself, Keith saw it was ink. He looked below at the snow Lance had fallen into and without a doubt, Keith saw the same ink where Lance's left hand would've been. 

"Lance?" Keith called, with panic under his voice and suspicion rising up his throat. 

"What is it?" There was laughter still in his voice, oh how Keith loved when he talked like that. Keith did not say a word, instead he offered his hand at Lance, who without thinking went to grab it. And that is when Keith's heart dropped. 

Where should've been an intact soul mark, only remained what looked like the result of a failed watercolor piece. The shape was still there, but because of the water in the snow, it dripped and smeared. It looked like it was crying heavily and trying to drown itself in it sorrows. 

Keith went cold as the ice around him but his chest went hot not with bashfulness, but with boiling anger. "What the fuck?" He said with slight hesitation of screaming, but it didn't work out. 

Lance pulled out his hand and looked into Keith's blinded eyes of fury. "I can explain!" 

"Oh yea? Please do. 'Cause the way I'm looking at it right now it's as if you're taking me for a fucking joke! A big fat one." He was serious, dead serious. 

"I-I was feeling like shit this day," it was barely above a whisper but his voice carried with it the dread he felt. "And I just wanted to feel like I was normal for once? Is that so fucking bad?" 

"You and your goddamn problems- Can't you ever get off your arrogant high horse and maybe think that others have problems!? Why can't you do what everyone does and get over it? Is that too hard for you and your fragile ass?" He was yelling now, the uncontrollable type of yelling. The one your fight or flight senses react to when its heard. 

Lance was beginning to feel the tears coming out of his eyes, never rolling, just suddenly there. "I can explain it all just please calm down-" His voice trembled. 

"Don't you fucking tell me to calm down! After this shit you pulled off you actually think I'm gonna let you off the fucking hook? You don't meddle with soulmates Lance, you just don't." He turned around and marched toward his vehicle. 

"No, Keith don't- wait! Where do you think you're going?" 

"I'm going back home." His voice and body language was just about ready as if he was going to spin in Lance's grave. 

He panicked and shrilled. "What about me? You're gonna leave me here in the middle of the highway?" 

When he talked, he never once looked back "Walk, call an uber; I don't fucking care what you do." 

Lance sprinted towards Keith and wrapped his arms around him, immobilizing them. "Please Keith, we can sort this out." He was crying now. 

"Get off." He spat with no mercy. 

"Please, I need you-" 

"I said get off!" Keith managed to shove Lance away and hit him somewhere around the jaw with his elbow. Lance stood feet away, with eyes wide and hand grasping at his face. Keith walked to his bike and before starting the engines, he told him "I don't ever wanna see you or your fucking face you understand?" He didn't give Lance enough time to respond, because just as soon as the last syllable was uttered, he sped off into the horizon at fast speed. 

Lance collapsed and sobbed quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')) I love angst :'))


End file.
